The Only One
by MichyoMadison
Summary: When the Dark Lord marked young Harry Potter as his equal, his choice was regretted. His fate now rests in the palm of a 5 year old Harry. How will both of their lives be forever changed as Harry grows up to be who he was born to be? Warnings inside.
1. Chapter One: The Beginning

**Chapter One: The Beginning**

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**Key:**

**"blah" regular speech**

**_blah_ Parseltongue**

**"_blah" _book titles, spells, or flashbacks**

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**Disclaimer: J.K. is a Goddess. Considering I still have to do my homework, I'm not a Goddess. Therefore, I don't own HP. All OC's are mine and mine alone. I'm not getting any profit other than bettering my own writing skills, and no copyright infringment is intended.**

**Summary: When the Dark Lord marked young Harry Potter as his equal, his choice was regretted. His fate now rests in the palm of a five year old Harry. How will both their lives be forever changed?**

**Features: Abused!Dark!Harry, Severitus, Sane!DarknotEvil!Tom, Dark!Sevvie, and Manipulative!Evil!Dumbles. Enjoy! Oh, and I should add that most characters, especially the Dark Lord, are obviously very OOC, and that this is obviously highly AU. Plus, slash involving the Dark Lord and Harry will be coming up later, and other slash will probably be popping up, too.**

**A/N: Ideas, suggestions, and corrections are most welcome.**

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A five year old Harry Potter sat on the back steps of the Dursley residence on a hot summer day in early July, cradling his broken wrist to his chest and trying to blink blood out of his eye from his split eyebrow. Oh how he hated his uncle and his random temper tantrums; he always came out of them hurting. As if locking him in the cupboard under the stairs, withholding all but the least amount of food possible to survive, and working him to death wasn't enough, he had to add beating him up to that list. The treatment showed in his wiry, scrawny frame and his short stature.

_Ridiculous humans! Can never leave well enough alone; always out shortening the grass every other day, and always trying to kill me on sight...Idiots. The lot of them._ A voice came from near the hedge.

Harry started, wincing when he jarred his injuries, and turned to look in the direction of the sound. "Hello. Who's there?" He called out softly, not wanting to bring attention to his hiding spot and bring back his uncle or cousin.

_Wonderful. Another human, but maybe this one won't try to behead me like the last one did._ That same voice sounded, but this time it seemed a bit closer than before.

_Why would I try to behead you?_ Harry snorted in disgust, not noticing the slip into Parseltongue. _I don't even know you. Where are you, anyway?_

This time the voice was right beside him. _You speak, human?! No one besides my master can speak our language!_

_Of course I speak. All humans speak. But you say I'm speaking a different language than most humans?_ Harry, oddly enough, had no qualms about talking to the deep blue-black snake that looking down to his feet revealed to him and only seemed vaguely shocked. Even more surprising was his speaking skills; he was exceptionally well-versed in the English language for someone of his age.

_You're speaking Parseltongue, young one. Snake language. My master told me he was the only human left who could speak it, but he must not have known about you._ The snake, which must have been four feet long, seemed decidedly wistful. _You must meet him, but not until you bring him back._

_Bring him back? What happened to him?_

_Magic._

_Magic_, Harry stated _Does not exist._ Ignoring the snake's hurriedly hissed protests, he continued on, _My relatives, whom do not seem like reliable resources to me, but must count for something I suppose, and every book I've ever read agree on that fact. What happened to your master, anyway?_

That happened to stop the snake in his tracks and his arguments died abruptly. _You can read?_ According to his master, human hatchlings didn't learn to read their language until quite a few years after what he knew this one to be. _How old are you?_

Puffing up indignantly at the perceived slight, Harry replied huffily, forgetting his inquiry, _I'll be six in a couple of weeks, thank you! The librarians at the library don't mind that I can read!_

_No, no, no, child. This is quite impressive. What do you read when you go to this library?_ The snake calmly placated the young boy, diverting his misplaced anger well.

_I read many things. At first, when I snuck away from here to go to the library, they only gave me children's books. Later, after I'd convinced them that I was bored, I was allowed to check out more and more books of all subjects._ Quirking his lips, Harry went on, _I think it confused the librarians that such a young child was checking out advanced books, but when I merely turned them back in several days later, they humored me._

Well, thought the snake, how advanced he is. My master couldn't have expected this when he sent me here. Assuming the child actually understands everything he reads, what he needs now is tutoring in something more important: magic. _Ah. Now, back to the matter at hand. You must learn magic. And I can convince you to believe it exists easily._

_How?_ Harry asked skeptically. While he knew he wasn't normal, magic couldn't exist. Could it? _And you know, I still have no idea what your name is, or who your master is?_

_Call me Ixion, child, and my master is the Dark Lord Voldemort._ Giving the snake equivalent of a smirk, Ixion continued with his change of subject. _I know who you are. You're Harry Potter. Master sent me to check on you, but the horse-lady you live with kept me from around here mostly. He really should have told me you could speak to me._

Snorting at the insult to his aunt, the young boy asked cautiously, _Why would this Dark Lord send you to me? How would he know me at all? And you have yet to prove your magic to me._

_All in time, child, all in time. You see, it's your fault he was disembodied to begin with._ Ixion slithered closer, wrapping around Harry's leg as he settled in to tell his story. _No interruptions until I'm finished and I'll tell you all I know. Later, you may ask questions. Now..._

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_"Are you positive of this, Wormtail? You know the punishment if you're wrong." The Dark Lord sat on his throne at Slytherin Manor. Being the Heir had its perks. Only when he summoned his Death Eaters could they come here, but none of them had any idea where they were. It certainly provided for great security, especially with the spy he knew he had within his ranks._

_Peter Pettigrew, aka Wormtail, cowered at Lord Voldemort's feet. "I swear it's correct, Master! James told me so himself! He suspects the werewolf is the traitor, and Sirius Black didn't like Dumbledore's plan for this charm in the first place. I am his Secret Keeper."_

_Voldemort sneered at the sniveling little rat in disgust. "Of course, no one would ever suspect someone like you, now would they, Wormtail?"_

_"No, Master." the rat concurred, lowering his head until his forehead was resting on the floor. "Never."_

_"Good. That makes you have some worth. Leave me. Now!" he shouted when the rat didn't scramble to his feet quickly enough._

_When Pettigrew was gone, the Dark Lord hurried about, putting on his strongest magical armour and drinking all the strengthening and replenishing potions as was healthy. James Potter was an Auror and his wife wasn't some block-headed imbecile either. Both of them could, and would, be fighters._

_Ready to leave, he turned to his snakes, Ixion and Nagini, who were still wrapped around his throne's legs. Nagini was his first friend and would always be his foremost familiar, but Ixion happened to be much smarter. Plus, he was a magical being: a son of Am-Mut, the Devourer of Souls **#1**._

_Come with me, as the only ones I trust. Voldemort hissed to his companions. Come with me to defeat this rising threat._

_Of course, Tom, dear. Nagini was the first to answer, with Ixion not far behind._

_Yes, Master._

_The reason Wormtail had sought Voldemort this night, All Hallow's Eve, was to tell him the whereabouts of the Potter family. One of his other servants, a Potions Master by the name of Severus Snape to be exact, had overheard a prophecy telling of the only one who could defeat the Dark Lord. While the Seer who cast the prophecy was most likely a fake, he couldn't be certain of whether this threat was real or not. Two children fit the prophesized one, being born on the last day of July, and being born to parents who had thrice defied him: the newborn Potter, and the newborn Longbottom. He couldn't let a babe be the reason he lost everything he had worked for, so he had no choice but the rid himself of the opposition._

_So, allowing his serpents to situate themselves on his shoulders, he Apparated through the wards away from Slytherin Manor, and reappeared at the first magical home in Godric's Hollow, a Muggle town that had been the hidden home of many famous witches and wizards, and where Pettigrew had told him the Potters were hiding. Voldemort squared his shoulders and began to walk._

_Given the small size of the place, he reached the front gate of the Potters in only a few moments. He pushed through and kept walking. When he found himself in front of the door, a quickly muttered 'Alohomora' had it creaking open. Then, he could hear the shouting within the house._

_"Lily, take Harry and run!" a male who must be James Potter screamed. "It's him! I'll hold him off!"_

_"Hmm.." Voldemort smirked, hiding his displeasure of not being able to get it over with quickly. "Such courage. How pathetic, coming from a Mudblood lover." His delight in seeing the pale face of the elder male Potter light up with rage was evident._

_"Shut up, Voldemort! You're not getting my wife, or my son!"_

_"Of course not. Not until I take care of you at least." He dodged a stunning spell, and took aim. "Avada Kedavra." Stepping over the cooling body of James Potter, he continued up the stairs and followed the sounds of crying to what seemed to be the child's nursery._

_"No! Don't hurt my baby!" Lily stood in front of the child, who was sitting up in his crib._

_Voldemort sighed. If she'd just hand him over, it'd be over with in seconds. "Step aside, you foolish girl."_

_"Take me instead! Just don't hurt my Harry!" The redhead was stubborn, he'd give her that. But she looked entirely too desperate to actually believe that he would accept her as his retribution._

_There was nothing else for it. He'd promised Severus that he'd try to spare the girl, and try he did. He was honestly prepared to let her go, but only if she'd give up her son. Not that he really expected her to do that; what type of mother would she be then? But if he must, he must._

_"Avada Kedavra." Lily Potter dropped to the ground, leaving only her son to look up at the Dark Lord._

_He didn't stoop to killing children. Most of the time. If they were Muggles, they deserved it. The kids at the orphanage he grew up in made his life a worse hell than the adults did, but none of adults tried to stop their bullying. Every last one deserved what was coming to them. Magical children, on the other hand, deserved better. This one was an exception._

_"So you're one of the ones with the power to kill me, are you, child?" Only his snakes saw this side of him, but there was no one to hear him but a soon-to-be-dead baby. When the little thing merely blinked at him with those deep emerald pools of his, he smiled gently._

_"Daddy." Harry Potter lifted up one tiny hand and ruffled his own hair with it. "Daddy?"_

_"No, young one, I can't get your daddy for you. But you can be with him soon, along with your mama." Reaching inside the crib, he held out a finger for the baby to grab. Then, he pointed his wand at Harry. "I'm sorry, child. Avada Kedavra."_

_What happened next was shocking. Instead of Harry slumping over, the darkest curse in existence bounced off the child's forehead, and sped back towards Voldemort, engulfing him. Shadows grew from sides of the room, trapping out the light and leaving only a fiery red glow to come from the area around the child he had just tried to kill, who happened to be still awake and looking behind Voldemort._

_"For the first time since this spell's creation have I ever had the misfortune of not gaining a soul somewhere."_

_Spinning around quickly, and still engulfed in the sickly green curse light, the Dark Lord stared in shock at the apparition in front of him. "Lucifer."_

_A vaguely humanoid person stood behind him, surrounded by black flame and cast into shadow by the red light the room was bathed in._

_"Indeed." the almost handsome creature looked amused, under the circumstances. "And you're one of my best patrons. I owe you for all the souls you send my way, and it's not your time to join me anyway. You see, this curse is supposed to work, no matter what. If you say the words, the person at the other end is a goner."_

_Lucifer circled around the immobile Voldemort, who followed him with his eyes. "But it's not every day that someone as far gone in the Dark as you feels remorse for killing. The one thing you wanted most as that curse sped towards that boy wasn't any of the goals you're working for. It was the coherent forgiveness of that child." As he finally stopped and looked the Dark Lord in the eyes, Voldemort knew this wasn't going to be pleasant for him. Lucifer was enjoying this far too much._

_"You'll get what you wanted, and you'll be lost to human-kind until you do." grinning, the demonic presence disappeared, leaving his parting words behind. "Make sure you keep up the good work, Tom. I'll be waiting."_

_Suddenly, the shadows were no more, and the room was lit with the lamp that had been on before. Then, the pain started. Voldemort felt as if his soul was being split in two, and he dropped to the ground. In all actuality, it was; his soul was being ripped from his body, but his body was fighting to retain it. He writhed on the ground as what felt like a Cruciatus doubled tenfold plowed through his very being. Nothing he'd ever felt even came close to this, especially as he felt the heavy gaze of Harry Potter resting on him. But as soon as it started, it ended. And all went black._

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_Master became a mere shadow of himself, unable to live, yet unable to die. He was still inside the house, though, and still able to communicate with us through our bond with him as his familiars. Nagini was to follow him far away to hide. I was to follow you and stay with you until you had grown up enough to understand his story and offer your forgiveness. So I did. When the giant-man came to take you away, I hid within your clothes and slipped away when they left you here. Ever since then, I've been watching you, young one. You may ask questions now._

Ixion finished his tale and slipped onto Harry's other leg to stretch his stiff coils. Looking up at his human perch, he noticed glazed eyes and a slightly open mouth. He poked Harry with his tail. Hard.

"Huh?" Harry jerked, before looking sheepishly down at Ixion's smirk. _Sorry. My parents really weren't good-for-nothing drunks, then?_

_Of course not. You shouldn't believe anything those whales and that horse you live with tell you._ he said with distain, _Your parents loved you and died trying to protect you. Besides, your father was one of the most hard-working Aurors in the force and was high-ranking, too. Your mother was a hired Charms tutor, but she quit her job a few months before she had you._

_What's an Auror? And what do you mean 'on the force'? What about Charms -_ Harry's figurative dam seemed to have burst, giving way to his many questions. Inwardly congratulating himself on a job well done, since he had made the child forget all about proof, Ixion halted the questioning with a nip to Harry's finger.

_Not so fast, child!_ At Harry's apology, he settled down again to answer. _An Auror is a Dark wizard catcher. Sort of like a Muggle policeman, I assume. They work for the Ministry of Magic._ Seeing Harry start to ask something else, he glared, quieting him instantly.

_Yes, there is a Ministry of Magic, and it's the main government. There are Ministries in each country, most of them corrupt. The British Ministry is one of the worst for abusing its power, and letting the supposed 'good' people get away with everything. Dark wizards are anyone who use the classified 'Dark' magic and oppose how the Ministry runs things. Anyone who followed Master was considered to be Dark. Now, as for your mother being a Charms tutor: Charms is a class taken at all magical schools, and is a classification of basic magic. Your mother was hired by parents to teach their child the course, or to help them understand the course they were taking. Enough of this questioning for now. There will be more time later._

Lifting his head to eye-level with Harry, Ixion asked seriously, _Can you forgive Master for trying to kill you? Can you understand that your parents were casualties of war, as you would have been had you died? Can you bring my master back?_

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**#1: Am-Mut is Egyptian, and is also spelled Ammit. I use her as a Serpent Goddess, devouring the hearts and souls of her enemies, and giving her immortality, along with some other traits, to her children. In actual mythology, she is the personification of divine retribution for all the wrongs one had committed in life. The Egyptians believed that if one didn't follow the principles of truth and justice, when they waited in the Halls of the Underworld and their hearts were weighed on the scales of justice, the hearts would weigh more than the feather they were weighed against. Then Am-Mut would eat their hearts, cursing their dead souls to eternal restlessness. She's a hybrid of everything the Egyptians feared: crocodile, lion, and hippo. Because of that, Am-Mut was never regarded as a goddess. I can pretend though, can't I? If you want to know more about her true mythology, go to wikipedia and search for Ammit.**

**A/N: Stupid quotations...took forever to get the Parseltongue right... So, tell me what you think.**


	2. Chapter Two: Leaving Hell

**Chapter Two: Leaving Hell**

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**Disclaimer, Key, and Warnings are all in Chapter One.**

**A/N: Thank you to Charcoal Hunter Winston for letting me know my Parsel wasn't showing up right. I had these swirly thingies, but they didn't work apparently. I think it's fixed now. Also, thanks to Holen-Snape, animegurl088, Knight25, and Charcoal Hunter Winston for reviewing. To everyone who reviews at all: cookies! To Knight25: I'm going to use one of your name suggestions in his name.**

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Harry closed his eyes and grimaced. _In wars, people die on both sides. While nothing makes their deaths excusable, it makes it easier to cope knowing that he didn't do it in cold-blood._

Ixion's hold on Harry grew tighter. _Your parents, no, but there were many others that he did. They were mostly Muggles, but some were the top leaders of the opposing side in the war._

_What are Muggles?_ Harry asked, opening his eyes quickly. _You've mentioned them several times. But what did I just say about war? That's understandable.  
_

_Non-magical people. Like these animals called your 'relatives'_, the snake replied, his voice filled with scorn.

_Then they deserve it._ There was no room in Harry's voice for questioning of his statement, and it shocked Ixion to the core. He thought that Harry would be upset. He had to tell him the whole truth, though, because if Harry found out later from Dumblefuck, then it might make him turn to the Light in revenge.

_Some of the children might be innocent, but if they aren't bullies, they'll grow into adults with no care for people like me._ Hatred filled the young boy's voice, and Ixion couldn't tell whether it was for the Muggles or himself. A lot of self-depreciation goes on in this young one's mind and it isn't healthy. _No one ever tried to get me out of here, even though they had to notice how I was treated. No one ever gave me a kind word. These people deserve what they get!_ he finished forcefully, eyes glinting with determination.

_Yes, I can forgive Lord Voldemort._ Staring into the snake on his lap's eyes, he said softly, _He might have destroyed my last shred of hope for ever seeing my parents, but he gave me more than I ever received here. At least was kind to me when he tried to kill me. I forgive him._

Then, the Dark Lord appeared in front of Harry and Ixion. It was rather anticlimactic actually, with no flashing lights, swirling mists, or loud noises to announce the presence of the famed Darkest wizard of all time. But he was there, appearing out of thin air, and he looked stunned. Stunned and dizzy.

"Wha-?" Voldemort cut himself off with a swallow around the lump the size of a hippogriff in his throat as he blinked to clear his vision. Then, he stared down at the hissing boy who stood up as soon as he was noticed, Ixion scrambling to find a perch on his shoulder.

_Master?_

_Lord Voldemort?_

The crimson eyes widened. The boy was a speaker? That bared some looking into. And he looked so much younger than he expected him to be before he was resurrected. Plus, he looked entirely beaten. Storing the thought away for later use, but not paying too much attentition to it because there were more important things and the boy didn't seem to feel as bad as he looked, he quickly took stock of the situation. He had is old body back! Shoulder-length wavy ebony hair that he could feel brushing his ears when he moved, pale hands with long fingers that he could see sticking out of his plain black robes, his 13.5 inch yew wand he felt in his pocket, and he was complete with his glowing crimson eyes, if the way Harry was staring at his face was any giveaway.

"I am back." Rising his head in a manner that spoke volumes of why people joined his cause, he felt compelled to explain himself with a short speech. "Being ripped from my body and forced to live in Albania has been both a curse and a blessing. The major Vampire covens have heard my story, being able to see me as I was, and have agreed to join me when the time is right. They merely wish a part in training you, Harry, and left alone when the Light is vanquished." Looking back down at the reason for his near-to-five-year death, he softened his voice. "You're willing to give me a chance?"

"No." Ignoring the two surprised glances coming his way, after all, why else would he forgive the older wizard, he continued. "From everything I've heard today and seen myself be the cause of, I gather I'm a wizard. I want you to train me. Then, I want to join you." Surprised went well into shocked, there.

_You want to join Master? You want to help his cause?_ The snake had thought he'd seen it all, living as long as he had, but today he saw a boy's world ripped apart. And that boy seemed indifferent to the changes. He became one of the strongest people Ixion had ever seen in his long years.

"I can teach you many things, Harry. How to use your magic, how to use your body, and how to use the way you act to gain support." Smiling, and thinking that training this bright young boy would be one of his favourite things, he continued. "If you'll let me, I'll take you from this place, never to return. We'll live in my main fortress. There, I'll teach you all that I know."

Nodding, Harry Potter agreed to change the course of fate. Forever. "On one condition."

"What would that be?" Voldemort asked, thinking of all the things a young boy would normally want: food, toys, maybe clothes. He should have realized that Harry wasn't an ordinary child.

"When I'm strong enough, I want to come back here and finish off these demons from Hell." He gave a brief explanation for his hate and shocked his soon-to-be-master with the furious fire in his emerald eyes. However, knowing that he couldn't stop him anyway and wanting to help when the time came, Voldemort nodded. "Then let's leave Hell, Harry."

With that, Harry laughed as the Dark Lord stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his middle, Apparating them to Slytherin Manor and frowning slightly at how thin the boy was. When he stepped back, releasing Harry, but keeping Ixion on his arm, he could see Harry looking around this home. He had to admit, it was rather nice: silver-gilded serpent chandeliers; silken tapestries on the walls of the previous Heirs, the Slytherin Family, and major events in Wizarding history; hard cherry wood floors, polished of course; dazzling marble stairs going both up and down; and not a speck of dust anywhere.

That seemed to have caught Harry's attention, and he gave up looking to question his new mentor. "If you were gone ever since I was one year old, how come your home is spotlessly clean."

"Zephyr!" Smirking, and anticipating the look of surprise to replace the confusion on the boy's face, he waited for the telltale 'pop'. He wasn't disappointed when the Head Elf arrived.

"Master!" The short elf was old, but not ancient, and actually had white hair on top of its head, not coming out of its ears like many. He bowed to the Dark Lord before turning to 'Master's Guest!'.

"Yes, yes, Zephyr. Prepare the room across from mine for the Young Master, here." Receiving an affirmative from the elf, he quickly added, "And take Ixion to his perch with some food."

"What happened to Nagini, Master?" The more or less manager of the Dark Lord's home had to be trustworthy. These elves and their ancestors had been in service to the Slytherin Family for generations. So, of course Zephyr had more privileges than many when speaking to him.

Smirking, he replied. "She's away. But she'll find her way home. I needed a break from her grating voice."

After he had gone, taking Ixion with him, Voldemort led Harry downstairs to his Potions Lab in the basement, explaining on the way about House Elves and their importance as servants and caretakers for wizards. He also mentioned that his staff of nearly 20 elves were what kept his Manor clean, but it was only Zephyr who anyone ever saw. Harry had never met anyone or anything that actually liked doing the work he had been forced to do in what he was soon referring to as his 'past life', but wasn't complaining if that was what they wanted.

"What's this place?" Harry asked, looking around at the neatly labeled bottles of odd-looking Potions ingredients on the walls, the stacks of cauldrons in the corners, and the piles of parchment still arranged neatly on the desk in the back.

"My Potions Lab. I assume it's like a Muggle chemistry lab, but what we make here are much more volatile and can do much greater things." he replied as he led Harry over to a cupboard near the back of the room, and unlocked it with a wave of his wand from his pocket. "And that was my wand; it's what allows us to focus our magic, unless we're powerful enough to focus without one."

Removing several healing potions from the shelf within, he set about handing them to Harry to drink. "Normally, I'd have my Potion's Master heal you, as you aren't dying, but I'm not positive of whom he serves. He's my spy inside the Head of the Light's domain, and it could be he is double-crossing us both." Next came replenishing and strengthening potions. "I can make my own, but for the longer and more in-depth brews, I have him do them."

"Do they all taste as bad as these? No offense, of course." Harry made a face at the last potion he was forced to swallow, and handed the bottle back over to the Dark Lord.

"No. They usually taste worse." Voldemort smiled at Harry's horror-filled look. "Now, starting tomorrow, we'll have you take a series of potions every day. You'll get used to them and they'll help you to grow taller, gain muscle mass, and put on weight. We don't want those monsters you lived with to have a permanent effect on you."

Still looking slightly disgusted, the boy nodded. "Fine. When can I get rid of these things?" He asked, gesturing to the atrocious bag-like garments he wore. They must have been 6 sizes too big.

"Tomorrow." It was the older man's turn to look at the items distastefully. He could barely believe Harry wore such things, but then he remembered those Muggles the boy lived with. He was doing his best to forget about them. "We'll go shopping. But since it's early in the day, let's get some lunch. Later, I'll explain to you more about our world: the Wizarding World."

And explain he did. It seemed each statement led to 5 more inquiries. When Harry had his stomach full, a rare thing in his short little life, he was ready to listen. Voldemort was up to the wee hours of morning answering Harry's questions.

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**A/N: It's coming along nicely, but sorry this one is shorter than the last one. I did move faster, though. Because I suck at doing children and their thought processes, and I'm more comfortable with more mature conversations, I made Harry a smart little kid. Just to accommodate my own shortcomings. Hah. This story's quickly turning into one of my favourite things yet, but don't expect every update to be this fast. I just got my wisdom teeth cut out, so I have plenty of time to write, in between popping addictive painkillers...Later, you guys won't be so lucky. Review; I want more feedback!**


	3. Chapter Three: Shopping Trip, Tom!

**Chapter Three: Shopping Trip, Tom!**

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**Disclaimer, Key, and Warnings are all in Chapter One.**

**A/N: Thanks to all reviewers! Don't worry WynterRavenheart, I was just iffy about it. He's going to be more of a mentor, with someone else adopting him. I know people have made that type of thing work before, but I don't think I could pull it off. livvie333: Yep! Nice little Dark Harry indeed. alianna-kyprioth: Here it is!**

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The next morning as Harry came to, he felt silk surrounding him. At first thought, he was sure he was still dreaming, so he kept his eyes shut tight. It was such a good dream and he didn't want it to end so soon. But when he opened his eyes, he'd be back in his cupboard at the Dursleys, and he'd have to cook the hog's breakfast. When he slowly opened his eyes, however he could see that his room wasn't a dream; he never had dreams this nice.

The Heir suite of Slytherin Manor was his new official room. It was the size of at least 10 of his old cupboards, and even had an en-suite bathroom, walk in wardrobe, linen storage closet, and sitting room that didn't count as part of the bedroom. The floors were polished oak beams, the walls were the same smooth-hewn dark stone as most of the castle, and the color scheme of the entire suite was done in greens and blues with offsets of black and silver. He had several of his own wall hangings and tapestries, with an order that they be replaced as soon as he found something that suited him better.

One whole wall along the back of the room was devoted to empty bookshelves and display cases 'for the things you'll gather later on', as Lord Voldemort said. A couple of the cases looked like they were built to hold swords, daggers, and other various weapons. That probably had to do with the whole 'train your body' thing.

Remembering the Dark Lord's promise of a shopping trip, Harry jolted out of bed. He was eager to see more of his world, so he merely grabbed a random outfit out of his apparantly magical wardrobe, not even looking at the fine trousers, button-up shirt, and robe as he pulled them on with fresh underthings, socks, and loafers. After brushing his teeth, running a comb through his hair, and taking a last look at himself in the full mirror, he hurried downstairs to the dining room.

"Ah, good morning, Harry." As soon as he stepped through the door, he was greeted by the black-robed wizard reading the newspaper at the head of the table. "Sleep well?"

"Good morning, Tom. I slept like a baby." Sharing a smile with the older man, Harry sat down and dug into his breakfast of sausage, toast, and eggs.

The two wizards got along famously, and Voldemort was quite pleased with Fate's gift to him. Harry was brilliant, eager to learn, and his eyes held that inner fire that spoke of power. He absorbed everything he heard the first time he heard it, apparently, and now had a great deal more understanding of his rightful world. This would be a good chance for the Dark Lord to gain not a follower, but an equal. But first, the boy had to look like it, hence the shopping trip.

"Good." Checking the clock on the wall, Tom hurried Harry along. "It's nearly nine! I want to have plenty of time to shop before the crowds get there."

"Fine. I can't wait to see Diagon Alley, anyway." the boy finished his last bite and stood to face Tom. "Ready."

"Stand still." Aiming his wand, and with a quick wave, in Harry's place stood a taller boy with longer hair and blue eyes. "There. Now me." Tom merely changed his eye color to blue and altered his facial structure a bit; very few people would recognize him anyway. Then, he conjured a mirror and showed Harry his new look.

"Nice! I look older!"

"That was the point. Now, you don't have to suffer through being treated like a child." Dragging Harry to the Entrance Hall, he shoved him into the fireplace, handed him the Floo powder, and waved him off. With a calmly uttered 'Diagon Alley' he was gone, Tom quickly following. They met again in the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry was waiting, and Tom took the lead, cleaning the ash off of them with a wave of his want and pointing out the places he had described yesterday to Harry as they passed through the morning bustle until the huge marble building named Gringotts was in front of them.

Harry, for his part, barely kept the awe off his face, and Tom couldn't keep a smile off his. He was back to his old self, but he was freer than ever. With just Harry, there was no one to pass judgment, no one after him for his beliefs, and no one looking up to him to change the world in a day. He could be normal, for once in his life. Even if he had only been back for a day, he felt like a whole new person.

"Gringotts. We'll get your keys and head down to your vault." As they passed the goblins guarding the doors to the bank, Tom prompted Harry to nod politely. It was never too early to make a good impression.

Inside, they headed to a free goblin halfway down the line, and Harry took the initiative. "Sir, I would like to visit my vault."

"Do you, sir, have your key?"

"No."

"Then you cannot visit your vault."

"Excuse me," Tom stepped in "But you know very well who both of us are. Goblin magic isn't fooled by ours. Harry has no legal guardian as far as we know, and his is the Head of his family."

The goblin stretched his long fingers and pondered the two in front of him before answering shortly. "Fine. Mr. Potter, hold out your hand and wish for your vault keys to be there." Raising an eyebrow, the boy complied. Soon, the had a set of four keys, two bigger and more ornate than the others. "Our keys all have summoning charms on them that work for the family Heads. The large keys are your Family vault and storage keys. The other two are your trust fund and school fund keys. I suggest you don't lose them, but if you do, you now know how to find them agian. Now, Blackridge! Next!"

"Well, that was nice." was Harry's only comment as they followed the named goblin to the appropriate door, a large black one marked with spidery gold runes.

Tom just brushed it off, "They don't like it when everything isn't perfect. Don't worry about it."

"Welcome." The older goblin than the one they'd met before, Blackridge, bowed them into a cart. "Which vault first, sirs?"

"School vault, please." Harry answered, sitting down beside the man he considered his first friend, for all of the oddities in both their lives.

Blackridge nodded politely, stepped to the front of the cart, and pressed a series of buttons that neither wizard could see. "Then hold on tight, we go only one speed." Around five minutes later, they were stepping out at the landing to Vault 418: Harry's school fund. The goblin took the keys Harry handed over, scrutinized them for a moment, and chose the one for the vault, handing the boy the rest. "Here we are, sirs."

The vault was stacked full of gold, silver, and bronze piles, with the gold being the most prominent. But this came as no surprise; Tom had explained about James Potter being the rich pureblooded Heir, and this money was expected. Leaving the two others standing in the doorway, the child quickly grabbed a bottomless and weightless bag from a hook to one side and set to filling it with stacks of coins that jangled noisily as they were stuffed into the soft velvet purse. He only stopped when he figured he had well over several thousand Galleons in his hands.

"Can I have this vault closed and placed into my Family Vault, please."

"Of course. If I may have the key, then?" Harry passed it back over to the goblin's outstretched hand, and when Blackridge snapped his fingers, the small key had vanished. "This contents will be in your Family Vault in a number of hours, sir."

Tom smirked at the Harry's half-awestruck look, and outright grinned when he got a mock glare in return. Settling down and returning to the cart, Harry requested the trust fund be moved also, and gave up the other small key. Then, they headed off to Vaults 720 and 721: the Family Vault and storage vault. These were more high-security and much deeper within the depths of the bank. Harry got his first experience of turning a corkscrew with four wheels, and both humans were looking rather green before the cart lurched to a stop. Tom figured that the goblins just got used to it.

After being told that the Family Vault merely contained money and lists of properties, investments, and other boring papers, Harry opted to go to the storage instead. He did request copies of the papers be sent to him via owl to look over, but otherwise ignored that patch of stone. Taking the large golden key with inlays of ruby and emerald, Blackridge unlocked the vault and pressed a hand to the wall in verification. The door melted away to leave an archway behind, which the three of them stepped through.

Harry was stunned. It seemed that here was the contents of an entire mall, which he had only seen in stolen glances at the telly. But this was better because he owned it, it was magical, and it was rightfully his in every way. His parents must have placed all their valuables in here when they went into hiding.

There were stacks upon stacks of books that he could fill his young head with, from _The Seven Greatest Magical Wonders of the World_, _999 Ways to Clean a Home_, and _Magical Horses: Friend or Foe?_, to _Hexes for the Hexed_, _Human Transfiguration for Dummies_, and _The Dark Arts: An Intro Guide for Beginners_. An earlier Potter must have had an intrest in the Darker aspects of life.

Racks and stands of fancy hats, scarves, cloaks, robes, and muffs stood with the shelves of scrolls and parchment, some of which looked positively ancient but still in perfect condition. Furniture, enough to fill a mansion, covered most of the floor space, and then there, hidden in the back of the room, was what caught his eyes the most. Standing between two suits of shiny armour stood a glass display case. Following his eyes around piles of artifacts until he stood right in front of it, Harry could see awards for various things made out to various people mingled with curious trinkets and weapons.

Those weapons, or ones something like them, must be what Tom wanted him to learn to use. For held in holders just like the empty ones he had in his own room at home were daggers, throwing knives, broadswords, scimitars, rapiers, katanas, lances, darts, nun chucks, wakazashis, and many other things that he had no inkling of a name for. Each one was beautiful in it's own right, silver, steel, and iron mixed with gold, jewels, and soft leather to form works of art.

"I'm going to learn how to use those." quietly, more to himself than anyone, Harry promised, staring at a deadly-looking katana.

"Yes. And you'll have some of the best teachers." Tom stated. "You'll always be able to defend yourself."

Lost in thought, and still incredibly shocked, Harry barely noticed as Tom used a spell to move the books, the weapons, and choice items of the clothes and furniture into a trunk, shrunk it, and placed it in his pocket. This was what he had meant when he said he wanted Harry to personalize his room. He was out of it as Tom steered him out through the archway, and back to the cart where Blackridge was waiting, and he heard none of the goblin and Tom's conversation. But his mind stood up and took interest in the people, places, smells, and sounds in front of him when they reached Diagon Alley again.

"Harry?" Tom nudged the boy with an elbow. "Where to first? What do you want?"

Looking up at Tom gleefully, Harry replied, "Everything!" and led him off into the crowd. Now he acted like the kid he was, pulling Tom from one shop to another, until the older man decided to make up his mind for the boy, and forcefully dragged him into Madam Malkin's: Robes for All Occasions. There, robes and clothes were ordered for both formal and casual dress, and in many different colors, styles, and fabrics. Accessories and underclothes to match found their way into the shopping basket, too.

Next, in Flourish and Blotts, Harry ran from one aisle to another, browsing through the many books while Tom did the majority of the shopping. He gathered up the books that he remembered needing for Hogwarts and bought them, along with a few covering the main events of the past few years that he planned on reading for himself. Harry had his own pile. Later, Harry insisted on stopping in for a double-scoop Raspberry Fudge Brownie Delight ice cream at Florean Fortescue's, and took thirty minutes savouring it. Tom was sure he could have eaten it in moments if he wanted to, but let the child have his fun.

Taking command again, Tom restocked his supplies and bought more for Harry at the stationary shop, the Apothecary, and the cauldron shop. His lab might be cleaned, but that didn't mean that his ingredients were fresh. Then, a broom caught Harry's eye in Quality Quidditch Supplies. Knowing he was in for it, Tom followed the boy in, reluctantly of course. Shockingly, Harry seemed interested, but not madly obsessed. It seemed he liked the idea of flying, but decided that Apparating was the real way to travel. That amused Tom to no end. After buying an Eagle Owl from Eeylops, which Harry promptly named Leto after a name he'd read once, they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Now, we'll order you a wand from the old wandmaker Gregorovitch for you to use for the next couple years. Ollivander asks too many questions, and knows too much." Tom stated right before Harry went through the Floo.

"I'll bet that's upsetting." Harry smirked, just as he disappeared. Tom, of course, didn't grace that with an answer.

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**A/N: Guh. I keep halfway forgetting he's supposed to be five. That bothers me. But if I change it, the whole thing would be ruined. He's growing up soon, I promise you that. I like shopping scenes, which amuse me, but I went more in detail about the Bank because it seemed more important than what color robes he bought. REVIEW and tell me what you think, or I'll just be mean and take forever to update.**

**Now, tonksiscool: I thank you very much for your long review. It made me think. Plus, you brought up a lot of great points. I apologize if any of my assumptions cause you not to enjoy the story. So, here's the answers, or as good as I can come up with, to your questions.**

**I'll answer the easiest question first. Using my admittedly overactive imagination, I decided to forget all about Horcruxes, and even make the reason Tom lost his body different from the books. I'm not using Horcruxes in this story at all, so they'll be no diary, no Slytherin locket, no Hufflepuff cup, etc. Also, if Tom lost his body because he felt remorse for using the Darkest curse and only wanted Harry's forgiveness, I thought it made sense for him to appear only when he had that forgiveness. I just made him appear in England because that was where Harry was at the time, and the only reason Tom left at all was because he was afraid his bodiless form might be discovered. The curse set upon Tom was that no human could see his spirit flying around; those friendly Albanian vampires, who amuse me, could see him. The only thing they agreed to was to help train Harry, join Tom publicly, and fight in one major battle in return for being left alone after the war.**

**Next up, I agree that the whole idea of having poor Harry stay up talking all day and night wasn't thought out, but I've already stated that I suck at dialogue. Leaving it as it is, Harry had at least some understanding of the way things worked in the Wizarding world, and I didn't have to type dialogue for Tom to explain things on this shopping trip. But isn't the beauty of fanfiction is that you pretend? Just for my sake, let's imagine that those potions truly are magical and worked instantaneously.**

**Last, but certainly not least, the smartness/library issue. I'd like to think that Harry could've snuck away with his Aunt's card, maybe she had a romance novel fetish; or the librarian felt sorry for him and helped him get a card. This isn't a Super!Harry story by any means, but it is sort of a Powerful!Brilliant!Harry story. He's certainly more smart than in canon. Like I said, the whole reason for me making Harry so smart was so I could have him be more mature and hold more mature conversations. In this story, he understands more than the average child, but he certainly isn't reading up on quantum mechanics in his spare time. I consider advanced to mean more along the lines of around a middle school/early high school level. But I based his learning abilities on my own experiences. I'm much more of a reader than a writer, and it must show, but when I started kindergarten at five, I was reading and comprehending at a 8th grade reading level. I didn't understand anything so complicated as physics or anything, but I honestly could grasp the material that I read and pass reading tests over it. That didn't make me a child prodigy, just above average, because if I had been tested on the subject itself, I'd have failed miserably. Let's just go along with the nonsense, and imagine that Harry can read and grasp more complicated material, but he can't comprehend it in a way that necessarily lets him be an expert at it and apply it; he reads and comprehends, but not always fully understands. If that makes any sense.**

**Damn, that was one long A/N.**


	4. Chapter Four: First Shot

**Chapter Four: First Shot**

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**Disclaimer, Key, and Warnings are all in Chapter One.**

**A/N: Thanks to all reviewers: Black Dragin, jumping-jo, kyo anime, and Knight25. **

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Well here goes nothing, Harry thought as he picked up his first magic book: _The Standard Book of Spells, Book One_.

About a week had passed, and Harry had himself a wand. It was Snakewood with an Elder handle, twelve and half inches, and had a Dragon Heartstring core. At the tip of the handle was a small crystal and centered around the base were three concentric crystals made of the finest Authentic Swarovski Crystals**#1**. It was a beautiful wand, and had the potential for much power. Harry thought that it was time to put it to use.

Focusing inwardly, he turned the pages of the book to a spell that looked simple enough. The light spell, and some of its more common variations. Picking up his wand, he sighed, and tried out his first magic.

"_Lumos._" he opened his eyes. Nothing had happened. "_Lumos_." Still nothing.

"How hard is it to light up, you stupid thing?!" he was frustrated at not being able to do this. Of course, Tom had chided him earlier about trying out magic too early. Most students only started doing magic at age eleven, with only the really studious and more powerful ones trying any earlier. Still, it was unheard of to try anything this young.

Which would be why Harry was sitting on his bed, legs crossed, and slumped over in frustration. He was just sure that he could do this. And the spell seemed so simple, even. Steeling himself, and putting all his willpower behind the words, he tried one last time.

"_Lumos_!" A bright beam of light erupted from the tip of the black wand and Harry about dropped it. He could do it! He could do magic! Simple magic, but magic nonetheless. Overjoyed, he ran through the Manor, looking for Tom to show him his magic.

He found him in one of the sitting rooms on the ground floor, calmly reading a book. He looked up when Harry came running in, holding his wand aloft and grinning gleefully. "I can do it! I can do it! See?"

Stunned, Tom looked back and forth at Harry and the wand. It was certainly alight, and that was certainly the light spell. "I see." He blinked, but he could still see the light. "Well. That's interesting." Picking up his book again, and sitting back down in his armchair, he smiled at Harry. "Don't try anything too hard. You really could hurt yourself if you're not ready. Promise me nothing past first year spells. Ok?"

"Ok." Still smiling, and ready to promise anything really, Harry agreed. Then something hit him. "How do I turn it off?"

The sound of Tom's laughter flooded the Manor. Of course he wouldn't have read that far. After a lecture on the importance of reading through all the details of the spell before you try it to prevent inadverse effects, Tom told him about '_Nox'_.

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"Harry! Leto's here for you!" Tom called through the Manor, too lazy to get up and find his young friend when the owl and her parcel were brought into the sitting room by Zephyr. The box was neatly wrapped and looked very formal. "I think it's the information you requested from Gringotts!"

"Ah! I've been wondering about that."

Harry sat down and ripped open the missive, reading through his mail while Tom went back to his book. Sure enough, inside are stacks of paper and rolls of parchment, all sealed with the official stamp of Gringotts Bank. Eagerly, the boy learns that he is the proud owner of numerous estates across England, Ireland, Scotland, and other parts of Europe. A Chateau in France, A Villa in Spain, and Borough here in southern England just to name a few.

Then, the various investments made by his family's goblin, who doubles as a financial advisor, has nearly doubled the fortune he owned in the first place within the past several years. All of this is really too much to take in at the moment, so Harry picks out a list of the last withdrawals from the stack, and puts the rest away. Leaning back into his seat, he notices some dates that stick out on the paper. Dates that should not have been possible. So, he reads through the paper, face getting more angry as each line passes.

"He did what!!" Harry's abrupt yell startles Tom who looks up hurriedly.

"Who did what?"

"Dumbledore did this!" the boy thrusts the piece of parchment into Tom's hands and glares daggers at the page while Tom reads it.

He too is sincerely pissed off. In a deadly quiet voice, he replies. "Owl those goblins immediately. He must have been the one to have your key, so they couldn't legally stop him because you were a minor and out of reach. Now, however, is a different story. He'll never get away with this again."

It seemed that Dumbledore, the self-proclaimed and highly respected leader of the Light, was a common thief. The dates that popped out to Harry were dates on which withdrawals were made after his parents were dead and before he had even heard of the Wizarding World. Dumbledore had been withdrawing money regularly from his trust fund account for the first few years while he was at the Dursley's. They had stopped several years ago, but the thought of the man stealing from him set Harry's teeth on edge.

The goblins couldn't press charges without Harry revealing himself, which he wasn't prepared to do, but they could keep him from touching Harry's money. He didn't have the keys anymore, so nothing would be coming out, and money from Dumbledore's own vault could be transferred back to Harry's to pay back the money he had kindly 'borrowed', interest fees included of course.

So with Leto sent off again, strict letter to the Head Goblin attached, Harry was forced to calm down. Tom was much better at controlling his emotions and had went back to his book while Harry wrote the letter, but his eyes were glaring daggers at the pages in his hands.

Huffing, the boy looked over to the other couch. "You're reading a lot."

"Yes, I'm reading up on the laws and ordinances passed while I was out of commission." he responded tightly "It will come in handy when searching for creature alliances."

Surprised, Harry comes over and sits beside Tom, reading over his shoulder at the fine print of legal jargon. "Alliances already?"

"Yes. I need to prepare to come back to the world, and it's never too early." He threw a smile in Harry's direction. "That's not for several years yet, but it won't hurt."

"True." So Harry stopped giving himself a headache with a load of political garbage that he didn't understand, and thought about the other questions on his mind. Getting Tom's attention, he asked quietly, "Tom? What is it exactly that you want for the Wizarding World?"

Tom looked up, closing his book, and pondered the question. "Well, you know I want separation of Muggleborns from half-bloods and purebloods. You want to know the rest of it, right?"

"Yes."

"I want Wizarding orphanages for any magical child. I want the Ministry to actually care about the people, and stop abusing the power that the people give them. I want an Auror force that can actually protect someone. I want complete barrication from Muggles. I want Muggleborns to be taken from a young age to live in the Wizarding World. I want Muggleborns and half-bloods to have an extra month in their first year of school to catch up to the purebloods. I want people educated!" By the last, Tom is practically yelling. But he catches himself and calms. "I want many things, Harry. And I plan on seeing them through. What brought this up?"

"Just wondering." Smirking at at sudden thought, he asks, "Where does torturing random Muggles fit in?"

Tom's sudden cheerful laugh is catching, and Harry finds himself laughing along. But Tom actually has an answer. "While torture does make good stress relief, I have a reason." He smiles at Harry's questioning glance. "Each Muggle I torture has done something to wizardry in general. Some have found out about us and hated us, others have persecuted our kind living around them for being different, and still others have gossiped about one of the Muggleborns and made them outcasts. Some have little reason, but most are narrow minded and deserve it. Their very young children are only killed, not tortured."

"So you do have a heart."

"I suppose." And with that, he goes back to his book, crossing his legs in an effort to be more comfortable, leaving Harry with even more to think about.

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**#1: Harry's wand: Snakewood is an extremely hard and rare wood species that's regarded to be the best in the world and gives its owner limitless protection from even the most powerful of adversaries. Elder is written to be among the most powerful wand wood. It symbolizes regeneration and it is believed to be a cure-all within magical circles. It is also beneficial in times of transformation and change. The single crystal at the tip represents solitary focus and beauty for its owner. The three concentric circles represent a completed circle of energy and healing powers. Dragon Heartstring is a core for wands with the specialty of hexes.**

**A/N: Well. Nothing really interesting so far, but we'll get there. And sorry this is so short, but I did post the next bit, too. REVIEW and tell me what you think because feedback is nice.**


	5. Harry's Birthday Party Interlude

**Harry's Birthday Party Interlude**

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**Disclaimer, Key, and Warnings are all in Chapter One.**

**A/N: This is of little value to the plotline, but I thought it was amusing. It's not a chapter, and I was nice enough to post this with my actual chapter, so hah. **

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Quietly, Tom snuck into Harry's room the morning of his sixth birthday. He knew the boy had never experienced a real birthday party before, and Merlin knew he deserved one. Today was his day. So he crept up to the still slumbering child and yelled in his ear.

"Happy birthday, Harry!"

Instantly, to Tom's amusement, he was awake. Eyes unfocused and still groggy perhaps, but awake. "Wha-"

"Come on! It's almost ten o'clock!" Literally, he dragged Harry out of bed and pushed him towards the closet to get changed out of his pyjamas. "You're not sleeping the day away!"

Harry emerged fully dressed and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Aparently, he'd been up late last night. "Now will you tell me what this is all about?" Harry asked with a yawn.

"It's your birthday, of course!" Grinning cheerfully, and acting nothing like a Dark Lord, Tom answered. "Time for breakfast! And a very special breakfast at that."

So he led Harry to the dining room, which was decorated with silver and blue banners proudly proclaiming 'Happy Birthday Harry!', green streamers, and black floating candles shaped into the number six.

Harry looked floored. Elated, but ready to cry. His birthday was just another day; never had he had anything done for him. When he saw a humongous cake, (three different flavored layers with thick, creamy filling between layers and topped with vanilla and chocolate icing stating 'Happy Sixth Birthday' surrounded by a black fudge snake) he did cry.

And when Tom gave him a hug, he cried on his shoulder. Tom said nothing as his sleeve was soaked through, and he let Harry cry, merely kissing his head and wrapping his arms tighter. Inwardly, he kicked himself for springing this suddenly.

"Thank you, Tom." He managed to get out in between sobs. "It's wonderful!"

"Oh but that's not all, Harry."

Looking up with tear-filled eyes, and wondering what else he was in store for, Harry let Tom dry his shirt and fix his face with a quick wave of his wand. Subtly, Tom waved his wand again.

Harry heard singing.

"Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday Master Harry!

Happy birthday to you!"

Bowing, all twenty elves who sang, albeit squeakily, in perfect unison, disappeared.

Tom, laughing at the look on Harry's face, led Harry to the table. The House Elves had brought a large pile of presents, ice cream, and their special Birthday Muffins with them.

"This is breakfast?" Harry asked hopefully, eyeing the cake, the Vanilla Chocolate Swirlie ice cream, and the iced blueberry muffins with single candles stuck in.

"Of course! And lunch and dinner, if you want."

Harry looked up at Tom incredulously. "Are you serious?" Tom just nodded and grinned, Harry just shrugged, and they both tucked in.

When neither could eat any more, and Harry had sat back, full, Tom made a suggestion. "Presents?

Eagerly, Harry went to his stack of presents. He acted more and more like a normal child every day. Tom hoped that was a good thing. He discretely took several pictures as the neat wrapping paper and bows flied. Getting thanked for each present profusely, Tom stacked the opened packages in a pile to the side.

There were books galore, a magical camera with film that Harry immediatley snapped several pictures with, a dragon-hide wand holster, tarot cards to satisfy Harry's interest in Divination, moving miniatures of the most prominent species of dragon in pure-colored cut crystal and diamond, and many other things. Including an Ultra Cleansweep, the newest broom on the market.

Harry wanted to try it out immediately. Even if he had no interest in the flying sport, he had already admitted that brooms interested him. He had to have it sized down a bit, and Tom placed several charms on it to decrease the height and speed it flew at, but it was still his very own broom. Which he had to fly on.

So Tom took him outside, to the flat grounds surrounding the Manor, and let him mount the broom, giving him pointers about how to grip and such.

In one word, it was completion. It was as if he was born to fly. He had never felt anything like it, and Harry was sure nothing could compare to it. He knew he'd just rethought his idea that Apparating was the way to go, but brooms were amazing. He could only go about twenty feet up maximum, but just feeling the sun on his face and the fresh wind in his hair was enough. Just the very idea of doing something that was normally limited to birds: flying, captivated him. This was magic. Pure and simple. And Harry couldn't keep the grin off his face as he flew towards the lake even if he wanted to.

Tom called him a natural. Harry just called it exhilaration. This freedom that Harry felt was intoxicating. It was as if all chains tying him to Earth let go the moment he climbed on. Every burden disappeared. He could do anything. He was flying!

Tom joined him in the air after a while, and they flew all day, stopping only for quick picnics under the sun, more pictures, and more birthday cake. They had gotten out a Quidditch ball after lunch, and Harry had fun tossing a Quaffle back and forth with Tom for a little while. But all good things must come to an end, and as darkness fell, Tom insisted they go back inside.

Later, after Harry had a good start on his new photo album and was ready for bed, he gave his sincere thanks. "Thank you, Tom." he pulled the older man into a tight hug and climbed into bed. "It meant a lot."

"It was my pleasure, Harry. I'm glad you had fun." He tucked the blankets securely around the boy and bent down to kiss his scar gently, causing Harry to smile.

With a quiet exchange of 'Good night!', Tom swept out to go to bed himself. He was really too old for this sort of thing; he was exhausted.

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**A/N: We'll actually get to something really interesting next chapter. It'll be longer than this, too. But this one wasn't a chapter, so I don't really have to feel ashamed because of it's length. All together, this and chapter four was over three thousand two hundred words. That was more than one normal chapter. I'm gracious.**


	6. Chapter Five: Castor Themis

**Chapter Five: Castor Themis**

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**Disclaimer, Key, and Warnings are all in Chapter One.**

**A/N: Thanks to all reviewers: Noc007, tonksiscool, Black Dragin, and Poisonbelle. Be aware that I use the term 'man' lightly in here for a bit.**

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After Harry, turned eight, Tom made him get more exercise. He insisted that the twice a week flying sessions when Harry had free time wasn't enough and bumped it up to one hour per day minimum. He never really said why, just that he should, but Harry certainly didn't complain, and took it in stride. He'd came to expect the Dark Lord's peculiar quirks, and thought this was a random idea. Little did he know that it was planned, and that he'd soon need it.

Secretly, Tom had penned a letter to Lord Adrastus, the accepted King of the Vampires and Head of the Blood Council **#1**. He proclaimed Harry ready to begin his physical training, and asked for someone to be sent. His reply politely stated, more or less, that their delegate would be the judge of any readiness, and gave the date and time of when he would arrive. It was a short, formal letter, nice enough to pay respect, but still showing that the Vampires demanded respect in return. He expected nothing less from the powerful man. So, he owled off the Apparation coordinates and readied the wards to let the Vampire in at the specific time he was told. Then, he just stayed quiet.

Today, however, was the given day. A Monday in January, about six months after Harry's eighth birthday and two months after he'd sent the letter. It was a crisp and bright day, with the sunlight sparkling on the fresh snow. Inside it was warm and cozy, thanks to the fires roaring merrily in the many fireplaces throughout the Manor. At nine o'clock, Harry was munching on cinnamon rolls in the dining room as his breakfast, and Tom was making sure things were all set for his guest in the Entrance Hall.

He wasn't nervous, having met powerful individuals before, though no Vampires and none near his own strength. He happened to be a tad anxious, though. His wand was handy inside the pocket of his trousers, he was dressed to impress, and his expression was the picture of calm. Inside was different. Here was free to hope and wonder that they would accept the powerful boy for what he was, a future equal. Not to flatter himself, but there was only one person opposing him who came close to his power, and they were long past their prime. Harry, on the other hand, hadn't even reached his majority, and was near to surpassing the goat Dumbledore in raw power. When he was spruced up a bit, he'd be quite the force to reckon with, one who he could be proud of. While Tom had become who he was beginning at age eleven, Harry could have a head start. But would this Vampire see that? Or would he see the young boy that he was?

So, at eight minutes after nine, the allotted time, the wards clicked. He wasn't surprised. He was surprised though when the man appeared in a cloud of wispy silver mist instead of materializing in a 'pop', but he didn't let on.

The Vampire was tall, around six foot three, if he had to harbor a guess, and was easily taller than his own five foot nine. He had dark blonde hair that reached to the center of his back and was tied with a leather band at the base of his neck. His hazel eyes shone unearthly as he took in the Entrance Hall, and when he swept off his impressive black hooded cloak he revealed black trousers, shirt and dragonhide boots, along with a sheathed sword strapped to his black leather belt. He seemed the type of person who commanded respect from everyone, yet still remained approachable. As expected, his skin was pale, and fangs glistened under his lips as he smiled. Apparently, Harry had arrived to ask Tom what was wrong with the wards.

Almost quicker than sight, the Vampire lunged at the boy, unsheathing his broadsword on the way and swiping it at Harry's head. Tom stood stunned, but the boy barely had enough time to duck quickly with widened eyes and hit the floor before his head would have rolled. Literally.

"Good. Good eye for defense." Harry's would-be murderer nodded approvingly, offering the stunned boy a hand up off the floor. "I'm Castor. Castor Themis. But just call me Cas."

He walked back over to Tom as he sheathed his sword again and shook his hand with a firm grip, even as the Dark Lord was trying to hide the fact that he was still slightly unnerved. "Sir, we've accepted your future equal."

Inwardly sighing in relief, he nodded. "With just one swipe?" Harry looked back and forth at the two adults, still shell-shocked from almost being decapitated, but remembering his training and allowing nothing he was feeling to show on his face, trusting in Tom. While he had known about Tom planning to formally introduce him to his followers as his apprentice and future co-ruler, it came is a surprise to hear the Vampire know about their plans.

"Of course," Cas laughed. "I'm the warrior expert for King Adrastus. I couldn't tell you how well he is at offense, but he has a survivor's instincts. You chose well." He turned back to Harry, who was still watching in intrest. "I'm your new trainer for the physical arts. I can teach you everything from the most obscure form of Kung Fu to basic fencing. What I will teach you, however, is up to how well you learn."

"So you're my trainer." Harry got only a nod and a smile in return. "Cool."

The Vampire picked up on his poorly disguised glee, as well as Tom. They both held back laughs at how quickly the boy deflated. "Glad you approve. Now, run five miles."

"What?!"

"Your stamina must always be improved. If your body can't withstand the physical exertions in a battle, then there is no point in knowing any type of fighting."

Grudgingly, Harry turned and headed down the stairs to the training room, and Cas turned back to Tom. "Training room, I assume. Since he's not heading outside into the snow."

Tom replied with a smirk. "Yes. Downstairs and to the right." Dark Lords don't do trusting, not even under extreme circumstances, but Tom got a distinct impression that this Castor was trustworthy. He wasn't going to tell him his life's story any time soon, but he just knew that the Vampires were going to be wonderful, and powerful, allies. Whenever Cas asked to be taken to his room and added his title into the mix, he decided to lead him up himself.

"Just call me Tom." His birth name hadn't been so popular in years.

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"Not right! Left! You leave yourself wide open for this," Cas yelled at Harry, thumping him in the side with a dulled-edge sword hard enough to knock the breath from him, even through the dragonhide battle suit he wore. "If you go right!"

Tom watched quietly from a corner of the spacious training room as they continued their sparring match. After two weeks and a case of revitalizers, Harry was improving. The instincts were there, the strength and stamina were coming, but he sorely lacked the fluidity that most trained fighters gained through the hard hours of practice. The potions that got rid of the weariness instantly and slowly increased muscle mass could only be used once per day for a month without risking permanent damage. After that, Harry was on his own and had to be in good enough shape to deal with the stress.

Castor Themis was a hard teacher, especially for the basics, and he pushed Harry much farther than he thought he could go time and time again. When he got the basics of hand-to-hand, weapon-to-weapon, and hand-to weapon fighting down, he could learn the finer points. Until then, practice was once a day for as long as Cas said so. He didn't hurt the boy, but he certainly was too tired to dream at the end of each day. Harry had raw talent in spades, but he had no natural grace. He was getting much better, thanks to his dogged determination to learn, but he had to work hard to make his movements flow.

As the swords kept clanging, often mixed in with the sound of metal against padding and explanations of what was wrong, Tom edged towards the door. Most days, he stayed out completely, but he wanted to see how well Harry was doing. A few minutes later, when Cas announced that it was time to work on his hand-to-hand fighting, Tom was gone.

Another two weeks, found Cas' corrections becoming fewer and fewer. Harry was improving rapidly. If all one does is practice, with the bare hint of magical tutoring thrown in from Tom, one does learn quickly. He was able to defend himself in hand to hand combat well and he could deftly dodge most of the attacks thrown by sword. His movements were becoming more refined and his reactions quicker. Cas decided to tone down their lessons to four times a week, and Tom attended to business.

Time passed, and not much changed in Slytherin Manor. Except for Harry.

His hair had grown out to almost reach his shoulders and was the darkest brown with a hint of red highlights. His emerald eyes constantly glowed with feeling, only nearing expressionless when Harry was required to pull on his mask. He'd even manage to grow quite a bit, making him a respectable four foot six inches. He gained confidence and it showed in the way he walked and behaved. But all of that was nothing compared to what he learned.

Cas became a wonderful friend, and he turned out to be a marvelous History teacher, especially about goblin wars and dates of orc massacres that Tom found boring, and ended up teaching most of those lessons. Tom stuck with teaching Harry a lot of basic magic, especially spells used in combat and actual life; petty spells that were taught in school only to be tested on were skipped. Harry absorbed it all like a sponge. Potion ingredient lists, all the ways to mend a broken bone, the reasoning behind Cheering Charms, it all was memorized perfectly. Tom was of the firm belief that Harry had an eidetic memory.

Lessons in physical combat continued, but had slowed down to twice a week with occasional other practice. Elocution, deportment, and etiquette were demanded for times when he would be in the presence of purebloods, and the formal dinners on the weekends allowed Harry to learn proper manners for eating certain foods. Tom had even began teaching the Dark Arts, but only up to a certain degree, as Harry's eleventh birthday approached.

These days, if Harry wasn't engrossed in a book or discussing the contents of one with his older friends, he could almost always be found in the training room or out flying. He loved the feeling of freedom, and used the time outside as a way to relieve the tension of his stress. Plus it was fun. He progressed in weapons dramatically, now able to use a rapier as a mere extension of his arm. It was his weapon of choice: light enough to use in one hand easily, yet strong enough to do extensive damage. He'd even gained a lithe and lean body from the practice, and by now his movements had grace and poise.

Magic wise, Harry had unreasonable power. He usually blocked most of it, only using what he needed for his lessons, practice, or everyday household charms. Still, it was there. Tom wasn't concerned because he had stressed to Harry the importance of not pushing past the limits too quickly and damaging his control too early. And he knew that Harry trusted him. Even in his most headstrong moments, he was cautious with the spells he used and didn't push the boundaries set by Tom in his lessons. But then those lessons kept him so busy and occupied that he fell into bed each night exhausted and happy. If need be, he knew he could defend himself, even if he would still have to study in school.

Over two years with Castor living with them as a semi-permanent resident had taught the two wizards much about him. He was well-versed in wizard magic, despite being a born Vampire, and especially enjoyed potions. His knowledge was also expansive about other Dark creatures. Blood wasn't a problem for him. He didn't have a mate, so had no outlet for control over the bloodlust, but controlled it easily by eating his meat rare and drinking an elixir of animal blood once a week to stop his cravings.

Now, Tom felt, was the right time to set his plans in motion. Harry would be leaving in a couple of months for school and he was more than ready. Later, he could learn more advanced things, but it was high time that he met more people besides the salesmen in Diagon Alley on their occasional visits.

So one evening after dinner, he felt through his link with his followers through their Dark Marks and searched for a specific one. With that person in mind, he went to the fireplace, conjured a fire, and threw in a handful of floo powder. "Morsmordre." He sent the Dark Mark directly through the floo to a single destination. "Malfoy Manor."

When a blonde head, followed by a regal person, came through to his sitting room moments later, he was standing there in all the glory of his elder years, crimson eyes flashing. It was no wonder that Lucius Malfoy fell to the ground in a bow lower than one the House Elves gave him. "Master. You're back."

"Lucius. I'm disappointed in you, but that can wait for now. Tell me." Voldemort hissed sibilantly, motioning for the man to kneel while he sat down in his favorite chair. "Tell me of our old crowd. Tell me of their loyalty."

"Well, my Lord, where to begin."

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**#1: King/Lord Adrastus governs the Vampires and heads the Blood Council of Europe. The Blood Council is made up of one male and one female from each of the four major Covens. They convene to make laws that concern all the Vampires in their territory and decide what to do in times of war. His mate, Queen/Lady Myrine, helps him enforce laws and leads in his place when he is elsewhere. Because the Covens are so far apart in terms of geography, each one is led by the elected members of the Council from that Coven. Usually, the Covens meet several times a year to make their own laws, and the Vampires live in holds scattered through Europe. Other continents choose their own way of ruling, and they rarely have anything to do with each other.**

**All my Vampire names are from the Greeks of 'The Odyssey'. Original, eh? But Adrastus means 'He Who Stands His Ground', and I thought it fit a Vampire King. His namesake was a legendary King of Argos during the War of the Seven Against Thebes, and was only saved in battle by his immortal horse gifted to him by Hercules. That's not the version in 'The Odyssey', but that's who I named him for. For more on him, go to wikipedia and search for Adrastus. Castor Themis on the other hand, combined the bright white mortal star of Gemini with a child of the Earth with Sky. For info on both Castor and Themis, separately, go to wikipedia and search for the names.**

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**A/N: Like I promised, this one is a bit longer. Sorry that it skips around so much. I'll be explaining more about Cas and his Vampiric qualities later. Jeez, it started to sound like a biography there near the end for a while.**

**tonksiscool: I'll take that as a compliment. Thank you. Personally though, our standards here in the U.S. are lax. I know high school students who can't read the sentence 'I have a hat.' It's really sad. I don't think you're out of the loop, I just must not be the norm. Yes, it's a glamour charm. I love those. They have so many purposes. insert evil grin And I'd have to say that Harry's favorite color is silver. Followed by blue and green. Happy and bright colors like yellow don't seem to suit him at all. Nasty.**

**Goblin/Guardian Issue: In this story, Harry's guardians are the Dursleys, as they were his last family and his parents left no fully detailed will. That would satisfy the Ministry, considering how pathetic they are. But he would need a magical person to take care of his affairs because his legal ones are Muggles. When they were in Gringotts, neither of them had any idea who that could have been. Of course, a little later on in the story, they realize that it must have been Dumbledore. Without a will granting him actual guardianship however, the old man has little more than the powers the Ministry let him get away with. Or, that's how I see it. I'm sure that if Dumbles was to tell the Dursleys that it was to hurt Harry, they'd sign anything the goat gave him. I'm not making him that smart. Also, I decided that the keys have a summoning charm on them that only works for family Heads. No, the goblins don't want to get on Tom's bad side, but they aren't happy about it. I think it suits them to want to stay out of world affairs unless it suits them and gives them riches. Plus, that's sort of how they came across in canon. They remind me of dwarves.**


	7. Chapter Six: Homecoming

**Chapter Six: Homecoming**

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**Disclaimer, Key, and Warnings are all in Chapter One.**

**A/N: ****Thanks to all reviewers: Black Dragin, windlg, livvie333, eoreos, Ravus7, fifespice, disgruntledfairy, Amertie, Ladyroo88, and .. ****Sorry for the horrendously long wait, but I was gone to summer camp. I was lost to the world, for all intents and purposes. Then I went on vacation, and then another camp. Plus, the world seemed to conspire against me writing. But it's out now, and that's got to count for something. In return, it is slightly longer.**

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It was a week later, and Tom had readied all plans for his followers to see him again. Lucius had told him who was in Azkaban, who was dead, and who had escaped. All in all, of his nearly fifty Death Eaters, only eight were dead. Although six were incarcerated and most of his inner cirlce were under suspicion, more than he expected had gotten away relatively easy. And he had one who betrayed others to save himself. Karkaroff. He'll die. Slowly and painfully as soon as he's taken.

"Hold out your arm, Lucius." He had called in Lucius for a last minute discussion and now he was needed. Harry was well-hidden behind the throne of the Dark Lord in his meeting chambers with spells only the two of them could break. The room was dimly lit with floating candles, casting the stone floored, tapestried covered throne room in shadow. It was fitting.

Tom was dressed in finer robes than he normally wore these days, because he went for comfort over style when he wasn't going in public, not that he planned on letting his followers know that. Black velvet with green sliken trim around the cuffs, hem, and neckline, and it contrasted nicely with the gilted silver throne and emerald plush seat.

"Yes, Master." The blonde stepped up from his place to the right of the throne and kneeled on the stone, holding out his left arm. The sleeve of his robe was thrown black and the Dark Mark was bared on his pale arm.

Voldemort pressed two fingers to the black brand, which had darkened by just being in his presence, and raised one eyebrow when Lucius winced in pain. Must be habit by now to send pain down their link as he called his followers. That needs to change, or it could be lethal later**#1**. He quickly let go of the man's arm, cutting off the mental connection as he did so. The look on Lucius' face was hilarious as the pain faded instantly, but he knew better than to say anything. So he stepped back down from the raised platform Voldemort's throne sat on, and stood with his head bowed as he pulled on his Death Eater mask.

They didn't have long to wait. Tom plastered an emotionless mask on his face as his followers Apparated into the room, varying degrees of shock and fear on the part of their face you could see from under their masks. They quickly fell to their knees, heads bowed, before rising and forming a half-circle around him. His Inner Circle, including two of his spies, appeared within a couple minutes, Severus being the last to show. His other three spies he didn't really expect, he had only included them in the call to let them know of his return, and four of the twenty Inner Circle members were in Azkaban. These members would spread the word discretely and explain things to the others. The traitor was the only other person missing.

From his talks with Lucius, he had found out that the other man had his own suspicions about Severus Snape's loyalties. The Potions Master had claimed to be a spy and had Dumbledore's protection as a professor at Hogwarts. Lucius had been his best friend, but after the war and Severus' announcement, most of the Dark would have nothing to do with him. Fact remained that he was still the Malfoy heir's Godfather, however. He really needed to have a nice long chat with his old spy.

He removed his wand, ignoring the sudden flinches, and with a wave made the floating candles burn brighter to bathe the room in full light. Tom kept it in his hand and stayed silent. It seemed that he was contemplating the men in front of him. Some of the lesser followers actually jumped when he spoke at last.

"Welcome back, my most faithful." He remained seated, but his scarlet eyes became hard as flint. The men in front of him shifted warily. "But are you truly faithful? How many of you carried out your lives with no attempt to find me? How many of you thought me dead? Maybe those truly most faithful aren't here now. Maybe they trusted me enough to rot in Azkaban in wait for my return. So what of you?" Tom's face was unreadable, seemingly made of stone, but his disapproval and annoyance were obvious.

Then one cracked. The Death Eater fell forward, scrambling on his knees to Voldemort's feet and latched his lips on his hem. He cried out, practically in tears. One of his Inner Circle, no less. Theodore Nott, Sr, since he had an heir now to carry on his name. He stayed loyal and never renounced the old ways, and although his relations to others put him under scrutiny, he hadn't been found out as a Death Eater.

"Forgive me, Master! Forgive us all!" The man seemed shocked when he didn't receive a Crucio immediately, and the others looked no better.

"Why, Nott? Why should I forgive you? Because you left me, bodiless, while you made no attempt to search for me?" He stood and looked down his nose at the blubbering man and sent him flying into the back wall with a well-placed Blasting Hex. Nott groaned from the floor and shakily stood, ignoring the rather large bruise on the back of his head and grateful it wasn't more. He quickly took up his place in the circle again while Voldemort looked at each of his followers in turn. "No. I do not forgive. Nor do I forget. You must earn your redemption."

"It was her sacrifice that did it, you know?" Sixteen pairs of ears perked up in curiosity. "Lily Potter died for her son. And when I killed him, the curse rebounded." The group gave a collective gasp. "Yes. Old Magic that I carelessly forgot. I cannot die, but I was ripped from my body. For four years I wandered, just knowing that one of my faithful followers would find me and return me to a body. I waited in vain."

Harry, who was listening avidly, held back a laugh as the Death Eaters shifted guiltily. The story was a load of bullshit of course, but Tom was pulling a major guilt trip. It was most amusing. He bit his lip again when Tom picked his story back up.

"Eventually, my snakes found me." Hissing softly, Tom called Ixion to him. Nagini was off chasing mice, but Ixion had been wrapped unnoticed around the back of his throne. Now, he wrapped his coils around Tom's shoulders.

_Hello, Master_.

Tom answered in the form of a stroke against his dark scales. "They led me to one who had the power to ressurect me. Who? A young boy, much like myself, with extreme power and potential for greatness. In a ritual I directed through my snakes, he returned me to full life."

The Death Eaters were in shock. Completely and utterly stunned. Their mouths were dropped open and Harry had to stuff his knuckles in his mouth to stop a snort. It was almost time for his appearance, and Tom was setting fear of him into their heads. In a way, he figured it was a compliment, too.

"Would any of you care to explain why a five year old child who knew nothing of me and had no reason to care did what my best followers could or would not?" He waited, as if for an answer, before continuing. "I thought as much."

Still emotionless, he sat back down and seemingly ignored the Death Eaters totally. "I was very weak. Barely as strong as the child himself. And yet he nursed me to health. A child." He looked back up, glaring daggers, and spoke in a deadly voice. "Now, he is learning. He has the strength to conquer all of you, even at his age, and he will get your respect. He is your lord, just as I am."

Then, while they were still gaping, he stood fluidly, dropped Ixion to slither over to harry, and flicked his wand. There Harry stood for all to see. Not that they knew who he was, of course.

He had Ixion on his arm, and the dark snake's scales stood out dramatically on the silken emerald robes with black velvet trim. His hair was loose to frame his face and he held his wand in his free hand. His eyes sparkled in amusement even as he stared stonefaced at the congregation.

It was Voldemort that glared the Death Eaters into movement. As one, they seemed to realize that it was in their best intrests to show respect, especially after Voldemort's speech a moment earlier, and they sank to their knees with their heads bowed.

_How rude, Harry!_ Ixion hissed in the ensuing silence. _They should have bowed upon sight!_

_Let it go, Ix. They'll learn soon enough._ He smirked as the minion's eyes widened at hearing him speak the snake language. The smell of fear increased.

"My name matters not to you. You'll find it out soon enough. For now, just call me Lord." His tone was condesending, as if talking to children about something he knew was over their heads and was enjoying every second of it. Suddenly, his emerald orbs flickered to the same fscarlet as the older man standing in front of this throne, and he narrowed his eyes. No one noticed the slight movement of Tom's wand hand. "Piss me off enough and you may live to understand why I think I have the right to claim to be your other Lord. Lord Voldemort, your announcements?"

Eyes passed from one scary sight to another, and Harry's eyes faded back to his vibrant green. His seeming anger dissapated and left detached amusement behind. He crossed his arms and turned back to Voldemort, who was still standing and still looked slightly annoyed.

"Yes. Death Eaters, you shall stay in hiding. The time is not right to reveal ourselves." Most looked slightly confused, and Tom resisted the urge to do such a plebian thing as roll his eyes in front of the pureblood elite. "What you will do is recruit. Bring more followers into our fold. Send out envoys to all the Dark creature Conclaves. Try to sway them to our cause. If you kill, at least try to make it look accidental."

He stared icily over his followers, smirking at their discomfort. "And bring me the traitor Karkaroff, unharmed. You know the penalty if you fail to satisfy me, my friends." As one, the Death Eaters gulped and the fear level increased to the point of smothering. "Good. Your other Lord shall be attending Hogwarts this year. Tell your children to look for the one with my gift." Taking up his throne once more and leaving his followers to decipher his riddle, he barked. "Severus, stay. Dismissed."

In moments the hall was clear except for Severus and his two Lords, one of which was hissing quietly with the snake on his arm, and the other whom was glaring daggers at him. He gulped. Somehow, he knew this probably wasn't going to turn out well for him.

"Master?"

"Severus. My spy. In a literal sense, you must understand." The man's mental shields were powerful, and he couldn't be positive what he could see in his eyes was the truth. Plus, the man had guilt written all over his face and body. It seemed he was counting his last breaths. "Tell the truth, Severus. You're Dumble's little spy within my group, are you not? Haven't you told them everything in an effort to stop me? Why?"

Looking up from the floor he had me staring down at, Severus moved so quickly he popped his neck painfully. "Why? You actually want to know?"

"Of course. It might stop me from getting spied on in the future." Tom ignored the spiteful tone and resisted the urge to Crucio the disrespect out of him.

"You killed Lily."

"I did. But only as a last resort." Tom sighed. He know he couldn't convince Severus of anything like this. So he tried the other tactic he had up his sleeve. "Tell me, what do you know of Harry Potter?"

Severus frowned, but went with the change of subject. The wards were too thick to break through without permission and his emergency portkey wasn't responding, so why not discuss world news with the man that would soon kill him? It wasn't as if he had anything better to do. "He's dead, apparently. You admitted to killing him in your story."

"Yes, but what did Dumbledore claim?"

"Dumbledore claims he took him from the hidden house in Godric's Hollow himself and put him under the care of his last remaining relatives. He stayed there for four years and suddenly disappeared. Since no one had seen him after the accident and no trace of him has been seen since, everyone assumed Dumbledore was lying and little Harry had really died with his parents. He's not held in high regard these days because of that, but the Ministry still supports him and he's still the Headmaster of Hogwarts." He frowned again. What did this have to do with anything?

"Ah. Not surprising. So what does the public believe happen to him?"

"In general they think he's dead. Either he died with his parents, he died with his relatives, or he died after he disappeared from his relatives. Even those who support Dumbledore believe it. They believe you to be vanquished, so they celebrate, but they believe their saviour died as well." Tom gave a vague nod, and Severus finally decided to voice his question. "Why does that matter?"

"He's alive. He's in this room." Tom smirked as Severus' eyes slowly slid over to Harry, the only other person in the room. Harry was surprised, not having heard anything about revealing himself, especially to a spy, but he went along with it and smirked as well. Severus, on the other hand, looked ready to faint. If it wasn't for the reputation he felt he had to keep, he probably would have.

"You must be joking." He stated breathily, blinking several times and looking back and forth between Voldemort and Harry. Tom merely smirked again in answer. "Harry?"

Harry spoke firmly. "Harry Potter died the day he left his relatives. In his place, I was born. I'm who I was born to be." He frowned as he thought the words through to himself. Where at that come from anyway? But it was true. If he had grown up where he had begun, he would have been deprived of being himself. Finally freed from his hell-hole at eleven by the wonderful actor Dumbledore, he would have been filled with the need to please his saviour and that in turn would have led to him becoming a spineless weapon. He never would have had the chance to do anything he felt wouldn't please everyone else and he would become depressed and emotional by fifteen. He'd probably have ended the tragic tale by killing himself. This way, opposed to the other, he felt free of expectations.

Nodding, he became more sure and ignored the surprise of the Potions Master in front of him. "I'm Dark, and Dumbledore believed me to be the turning point of the war when he heard the prophecy. Right or wrong, you're a Slytherin to the core. You want to win. To put it easily," he gestured between Tom and himself, "We are the winning team."

Voldemort took advantage of Severus still being stunned beyond belief and added his two cents. "Exactly. Actually become faithful, Severus, or you'll die right here."

The man took very little time to think. What was there to really think about? Harry had it right on the dot, he was a Slytherin. He wanted to win by any means necessary. Lord Voldemort actually was giving him a second chance, which was surprising, but who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? Especially one that sat between life or death? So really, his quick answer was of little surprise.

"Of course, My Lord." He kneeled and bowed his head.

"Excellent. Now, you know you can not be trusted right away, Severus, so several things are required. Firstly, I want you to drop your mental shields and allow me full access into your mind. I must be sure of your loyalty this time." No more mistakes. Severus might seem truthful, but this would allow Tom to be certain.

The dark haired Potions Master wasn't surprised. He also expected to be tortured, but he certainly wasn't going to complain if that one didn't come to pass. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. He needed to stay as calm as possible if he was going to allow a foreign prescence into his mind without reacting. Moments later he nodded.

Tom ignored Harry, who stood beside him trying to look unintrigued and failing, and focused his sights on the pair of onyx eyes in front of him. He adhered to the man's wish for privicy, even though he easily didn't have to, and thought only of his loyalty to the Dark side. He found what he was looking for quickly and exited, ignoring the lingering feelings of confusion and apprehension.

"I'm pleased with what I saw. Forgive me if I require frequent checks, though."

"Of course, My Lord." He repeated. He had expected that, also.

"Now. Severus, you're going to Blood Adopt Harry." He received one stunned stare and one surprised glare in return. "As I said, he will be going to Hogwarts this year, and with things as they are, Harry Potter will be receiving a Hogwarts letter soon. If that happens, Dumbledore will know he's alive. You would be the perfect person to adopt him."

Severus had had enough shocks tonight to last him for life. He was astonished that his Lord would put that much trust in him so quickly, but maybe his viewing of the memory of his reluctant support of Dumbledore had something to do with it. He had felt like he had handed one of his best friends their death on a silver platter. He was depressed and desperate. Dumbledore was a last resort. Hopefully, Voldemort understood that now that he had seen his mind.

Harry, on the other hand, was also surprised. Not shocked, since Tom and he had juggled ideas earlier, but still surprised. He was also a tad angry, considering Tom finalized the plans without discussing it with him. However, the more he turned it around in his head, the more he had to agree. He barely knew the man, but he was obviously an accomplished Occulumens, he knew he was a Potions Master, and he was a teacher at Hogwarts. What better way to hide from Dumbles than right under his nose? He was slightly miffed that Tom didn't ask first, but he understood his reasoning. No use dragging out unpleasant conversations.

"Can both of you live with that?"

"Yes, Master."

"Of course."

"Good. Severus, be back here on the eve of the thirty first. Be ready to perform the ceremony. Also, you might want to start packing up your house at Spinner's End. You'll be living here in the summers." He completely ignored the man's shocked face once again and leaned back in his seat. Then he dismissed the man before he had a chance to reply. Why bother? He didn't have a choice anyway, now did he?

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**#1: I think the Dark Mark is a connection between Voldemort and all his followers. He doesn't have one himself, but he's the center and tie for the magic, so those Marks are kept mentally within him. He can feel his people through the connection at all times, and they can feel him when he calls and when he feels extreme emotion. Mostly when he's pissed off in other words. Normally the Mark is only a symbol, but he can force feeling through it. In his earlier days he liked the power rush he felt when he could cause them pain with a thought, but now he realizes that it's ridiculous. His anger leads to punishment. Failure, or not fulfilling his standards, leads to punishment. That's a given, but in the middle of a battle, if the Death Eaters still feel the lingering pain of the Mark they could be distracted and get themselves killed. Even if he doesn't really care too much about that, he needs his Death Eaters to see his plans carried out. He can punish them and keep them in fear, sure. But now he's smart enough to realize that they'll respect him more if he doesn't carry the punishments over to the battlefield. Again, that's just what I think, but that's what I'm making him think. So ha.**

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**A/N: Wow. It seemed all poor Tom did was stand up and sit down. My creativity was sorely lacking. **

**Disgruntledfairy: I loved your encouragement and support! I hadn't even noticed that detail, and thanks for pointing it out. I added several inches, so that should help, and Harry's not going to be over 5'9'' at the end anyway. I agree completely about canon, though. Many times in there I just thought it was ridiculous. J.K. was genius to create the world of HP, but the main character started going downhill in OotP. Well, he was going downhill since the beginning, but it got worse in book five. In this story, I want Harry's personality to be toned down and take out that rashness. Bring out his inner Slytherin. He can have the saving-people-thing without being reckless. And don't worry, Tom would be way too freaky as the submissive.**


	8. Chapter Seven Part One: Adoption

**Chapter Seven: Adoption**

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**Disclaimer, Key, and Warnings are all in Chapter One.**

**A/N: Thanks to all reviewers: Ladyroo88, livvie333, Ravus7, fifespice, disgruntledfairy, Black Dragin, snapefan4, and Rokkis. Sorry for the horrendously long wait, but I was horribly busy. We went to Disney World! Then, time was just ridiculously fast. And then school started. Forgive me. Also, you might have to wait a while for the next chapter. This chapter was a beast to write, plus it's longer than normal. I divided it in half, and the other part has yet to be typed, but enjoy this for now.**

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On the specified day, Severus Snape was nervous. He made his excuses to Dumbledore early in the day and was ready and waiting in his Death Eater robes by one, a trunk full of personal items and most of the contents of his home at Spinner's End shrunken and in his pocket. Now, if only his Lord had given him an exact time. After many minutes of figeting and pulling at the robes, he decided that it was better to be safe than sorry, or in this case, early than late. With that in mind, he concentrated on the Dark Mark and Apparated.

The wards must have alerted his presence to Lord Voldemort because he was alone in the throne room for all of two minutes. He spent the time trying to decide whether or not he should Apparate back to Hogwarts and come back later. Then, in came the Dark Lord. He was dressed in black velvet again, this time with a bright scarlet trim, and looked faintly distracted. He merely waved away Severus' bows and motioned for him to follow.

The Potions Master had never been outside the throne room before, so the trip through Slytherin Manor was a surprise. Usually when he was called specifically, it was to make potions. He was portkeyed or Apparated directly to a lab. Now he had no idea where he was, so he could do little more than follow his lord silently and stare at the decor. How could a man so forbidding live in such a normal home? It was obviously quite large, and seemed so refined. Dare he say it was cheerful even? Lord Voldemort seemed to know the place well, which belied the idea that this manor wasn't his own, and they traveled the halls and stairs quickly.

Eventually they came to a nondescript door that opened into a sitting room. The room was furnished with soft brown in the walls and green in the moldings, giving it a tasteful air of elegance accented by the gold tones in the antique furniture and oriental lamps. Again, the setting the scarlet-eyed man was in didn't seem to fit the personality Severus knew he had. It was kind of disturbing.

What was much more interesting than the room itself however, was the cauldron bubbling over a low fire with what his keen eye quickly recognized as the potion used in the Blood Adoption ritual. It was a vile orange, just as it was supposed to be, and Severus was confused.

"It's already finished? But -"

He was cut off by Tom's cold voice. "Yes, you usually make all the complicated potions. But between Harry and I, we manage."

At that moment, just as Severus was about to apologize profusely, Harry decided to make an appearance. He came barreling through a door opposite the one that Tom and Severus had previously came through carrying two ceremonial daggers and a jar of healing cream. Once he saw them, he slowed to a stop. Not even out of breath, Severus noticed enviously.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to run with knives?" A man that Severus didn't recognize asked as he followed Harry, albeit more slowly. He carried a silver basin and a glass stirring rod.

"Shut it, Cas." A smirking Harry retorted, and they both put down the items they were carrying on the table with the cauldron of potion, a ladle, and two golden goblets.

Tom sighed and shook his head. "Severus, this is our own Vampire envoy." He motioned to Cas. "Castor Themis. He prefers Cas, though."

The two men shook hands cautiously and Cas smiled to show his fangs. Severus, who was already slightly afraid, flinched at the sight and caused both Harry and Cas to laugh. The man was a Dark wizard, knew more about the Dark Arts and Dark creatures more than most, and was scared of the Vampire that lived with his lord. It struck them as funny.

"Don't worry, sir, he's a vegetarian Vampire. He won't hurt you." Harry gave his soon-to-be father a kind smile, not finding it funny for long.

"Harry, I don't exactly appreciate being talked about like an errant puppy, you know." The Vampire stated with a mock glare that Severus mistook for true anger. "I'm a Vampire, not your pet."

Harry snorted. "Don't act like one and scare the man if you don't want to be treated by one."

Voldemort pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to keep his headache at bay and glared, scarlet eyes flashing. "Shut up, you two!" He was dismissed by the two with a wave of their hands, and they continued their play fight. He sighed again, what a bad morning. They might be nervous about Severus coming to live with them all of a sudden, but they were only frightening him more. It needed to stop.

Severus felt faint. He was sure the two were about to be Crucioed when he saw the Dark Lord pull out his yew wand and take aim. Instead, with a flash of blue, they were separated and sitting in chairs. Both were silent, looking over at Tom questioningly.

"Ah. Peace." Voldemort turned to Severus. "This isn't really normal for them. They get along well, but you coming disrupted their routines." Severus just nodded slightly, not knowing if an answer was expected, and tried to stay calm. His heart was racing, which Cas could sense, and his face was pale.

"Fine, Tom, we'll stop." Harry and Cas both stood gracefully, looking apologetic. "We didn't notice that our bickering was bothering him."

Tom nodded in acceptance, still trying to stave off a headache. "Do calm down, Severus. You're only going to be punished if you disobey me. My moods have nothing to do with it. Right now you don't have any orders, so don't worry so much."

Severus' mouth dropped open, and Harry was quick to notice. "Sir?"

At that, Severus broke. He had had too many shocks in too little time and wasn't ready to accept any more. Voldemort coming back, him having a new lord, Harry Potter being alive, himself being asked to adopt the boy, the Manor, it was all too much and he was breaking down. Even with the little things, like his new lord calling him 'sir', anything irrational screamed 'wrong' to him on so many levels. He had had enough. His mind shields were dropping, he was loosing track of his thoughts, and his mouth ran on it's own. "Why are you calling me 'sir'?! You're above me!" He turned to Voldemort, ignoring the tiny part of his brain that was still rational and telling him to shut up, and screamed. "And you! Why are you so nice?! What happened to Crucio right and left?! This is all a bad dream or something! It's got to be! Nothing - " He was stopped by Cas shoving a glob of Calming Drought down his throat.

Severus coughed and sputtered for a moment until he felt the calming numbness rush through his veins. He could feel himself being pushed into an armchair and realized that he could think clearly. The inner turmoil of his still reeling mind was veiled behind the tight locks of the potion, allowing him to stay rational. Still, he would need to sort out all his thoughts and feelings later. When he was alone and reasonably safe. His reputation must be in tatters with this bunch anyway, so why bother trying to be the stiff bastard of a Potions Master anyway? After seeing him have a mental breakdown, there wasn't much he could do.

"It wasn't a good idea to spring all this on him at once, was it?" Harry asked quietly from his place on the floor by the man's chair. He studied Severus' pasty pallor and beaded brow.

"No, but I think he's alright now." Tom answered, also looking Severus over critically. "Severus?"

The man in question looked up slowly. "I'm sorry, my Lord."

He received a shake of a head in reply. "Harry's completely right; you weren't ready for all of this. But let's try again." He motioned to Cas, who was beside Harry on the floor. "Cas is Harry's tutor. Both of us have known him for years. Even though he is a Vampire, he only drinks the blood of animals. He's more of a friend than a diplomat, really."

Everyone politely ignored the return of Severus' gaping. Voldemort? Friend? Maybe he just heard that wrong. The Dark Lord wouldn't have friends. He must be referring to him as Harry's friend. Harry seemed more like a real kid than someone who had grown up with Voldemort, anyway. That fact did slightly scare him, but at the same time it put him more at ease.

"Now. Harry calls you 'sir' because he really doesn't know what to call you. You're going to be his father soon and you're his elder, but at the same time he is above you in status of the Dark. Does that give him liberties to call you by your name, or should he show respect." Tom snorted slightly. "Being the polite person that he his, he's taking the more kind road. If you don't like it, tell him what to call you."

Harry nodded in agreement. That more or less summed it up, although he really was glad Tom didn't mention that he was slightly scared to call him 'Father' just yet. Especially since he had no idea how the man would take it. So, he settled for the safer route. "Like Tom said though, you will be my father soon. To be able to keep up pretenses later, we need to get into the roles as soon as possible."

Touché. He brings up a good point. "I can live with that." Severus agreed weakly.

"He'll get used to it." Voldemort took up the talking again. "You asked why I'm being nice, Severus. I'm not really being nice, so much as I'm being civil. You are going to be living with us, using the next month as time to get settled in, and I don't have any intentions of keeping up my masks all the time. Neither does Harry, for that matter, so we're being normal." He paused, smirking between Cas and Harry. "As normal as possible, I suppose."

"I think we should get on with the ceremony. The potion won't last forever, you know." Cas mentioned, raising an eyebrow but otherwise ignoring the jest.

"Are you alright now?" Harry asked Severus quietly. He received a slow nod in return and everyone stood. Harry immediately took charge, proving he had a heavy grasp of what was going on. That eased Severus' mind somewhat.

"Cas, ladle the potion out into those goblets." As he went to follow the orders, the boy pulled out a vial of clear, shimmering liquid from one of his pockets and handed it over to Tom. "Put that in the basin and be ready to stir. Ready, Severus?" Again, the older man nodded, but this time it was steadier. Harry took a deep breath and relaxed.

Soon, he'd have a real family. Full blood and magical adoption as Severus Snape's son. Everything had been arranged and no trace that Harry James Potter had ever existed remained. All files had been changed or destroyed and all that remained was this ceremony, even if it is illegal. He was nervous, even though he didn't show it. He might not remember the details of his earlier life with the Dursley's he remembered perfectly the hate they held for him. Hate, disgust, and even a bit of fleeting fear. Now, he hated them for the veritable hell of a life they put him through that he didn't deserve. To better themselves, they treated a child like shit. He couldn't forget his feelings, nor his past, and the Dursley's had left an impression he wasn't proud of.

His previous relatives had been actual family, people meant to take care of him and hadn't. Severus wasn't. There was nothing obligating him to become a parent other than Tom's order. Would that affect him? Would being ordered to take an heir that he didn't even know cloud his judgment? Would he hate him, too? The thought was fleeting, but there. As soon as it had popped in, it left. Tom had been a friend for no reason, and he could defend himself. Shaking his head purposefully, he picked up a dagger from the table. This time, no one would get away with half of what his relatives had pulled.

Severus, following Harry's lead picked up the other dagger and sliced open a clean, deep cut across his palm. He had read up on this ceremony as soon as he'd been ordered to perform it, so he had a good idea of what was going on. However, the books that he had found went into very little detail. The most he could get was that the ceremony was unique to each set of people performing it, and magic was the cause of the differences because it was what gave you the directing words. The Potions Master couldn't help but notice that the young boy before him didn't flinch as he ran the dagger firmly across his hand, bringing blood to well up from the wound.

The blood that freely flowed from the twin slices were held over the basin on the table and dripped thickly from their hands to the dancing liquid coating the inside of the basin. The clear color immediately changed to a pale pink, growing darker as more blood dripped into mixture. Severus briefly noted that the dagger must have been laced with an anti-coagulant, as the blood continued to slide down his hand.

Tom slowly stirred with the thin glass rod from underneath their hands, mindful of the falling blood, keeping the color even until it reached a dark, fiery, crimson. Then, Cas handed over the jar of healing cream and took the daggers. Tom put down the rod and allowed the mixture to slowly thicken.

It was with healed hands that both Harry and Severus faced each other. Harry was the one to open his mouth and begin the ritual, feeling relief as the words came easily.

"_Suo novus_

_Exsisto rid of vetus_

_Unus est argentum_

_Ceterus est aurum_"

His voice was hollow, soulless. Or a man possessed. But it was also a sense of comfort to the occupants in the room; full of meaning and hope for the future. It was odd how something sounding so dead could give off that aura, but it's true. The magic in the air was palpable, brushing over Tom's skin and giving him gooseflesh. Severus felt as if it was trying to go right through him, trying to see inside his very being.

"_A orbis est rotundus_

_Per haud terminus_

_Forever signum_

_Forever curvus_"

Carefully, Tom poured most of the bloody mixture from the basin into the goblets, overtop of the orange brew that acted as a sponge. The color inside the goblets merely became a burnt auburn, and Tom rested the basin back on the table.

"_Preteritus quod tendo_

_Merge ut unus_

_Alieno preteritus_

_Pario sol solis_"

Harry finished his portion of the spell, and a fine mist began to rise from the top of the goblets. Slowly, ever so slowly, it circled the pair, encloaking them in iridescent white. Severus felt the urge to take up the incantation, so he did. His voice matched that of Harry's so well that the blankness scared him.

"_A flumen of rutilus_

_Ut certamen duos_

_Abbas quod filius_

_Vetus fio novus_"

The mist continued to swirl around them, clogging the air, finding the magic and making it visible to the room's occupants. They could see the two combining; small sparks wove their way in between the mist, curling and dancing. Severus was entranced, but he shook his head and continued.

"_Per specialis preteritus_

_Quispiam occulto_

_Velieris fabula_

_We're in vestri pars_"

They were being judged, or so he felt. He knew instinctively that if there ever was a time to have second thoughts about this whole thing, now would be the time. But, surprisingly, he wasn't too worried. This was Lily's child. His oldest and dearest friend's child. He could, and would, do this for her. Plus, after what he'd seen today, the child didn't seem to be the type of a Dark Lord. It was settling to know that he could have an heir, do what his Lord required, and relieve his conscience at the same time. Fully relaxed, he let the final binding words come to him.

"_Forevermore_

_Duos est unus_

_Veneficus reus_

_Is est meus filius._"

The swirling mist in the room reached its climax, pulsing and pushing at the occupants, and disappearing into them. Quickly, Harry and Severus downed the contents of the goblets, feeling urged to by the magic inside them, and swayed dizzily as they felt the effects. Harry could feel his blood changing, burning as his DNA rewrote itself to compute in his new father's genes. Severus had the easy part, he noted as his body began to shift, taking on some of the features of the older man across from him. His fingers elongated slightly, his cheekbones became higher, and his hair darkened to the deepest ebony. Those were the only obvious changes, but Harry knew that he was lucky. If he had of been older, with a more matured body and features, the change would have been much more visible and very painful.

Truly, Severus did have it relatively easy, his change being more magical than physical. His magic accepted Harry as family and reworked the family inheritance pattern, along with a few other minor things. He ended up with only a slight headache that quickly began to fade as he watched his new son wince slightly.

Cas was the one to break the silence that had fell with the start of the ritual. "Well, that's that. Tell us what name you and Tom chose, Harry."

"Cristiano Ares Snape.**#1**" Harry replied, taking a seat and avoiding Severus' gaze slightly.

"I like it." Severus also sat, across from Ha -- Cristiano, as he knew he needed to get used to the new name, even in his head. Especially in his head. He noticed the boy's slight unease with the situation, but he never would have dreamed the thoughts in his head. Nevertheless, he tried to make the transition as easy as possible for him. It had to come as a shock for him, too.

At that, the boy raised his head and smiled, immediately brightening. "I picked the name and Tom agreed on it, Father." He seemed to be waiting for disapproval and was surprised when the man only nodded.

Tom finally decided to speak up. "So, Cris, how do you feel?"

Cris looked up incredulously. "Cris?! I have a name for all of two minutes and trust you to shorten it for me." Everyone couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, Cris, the name's stuck." Severus smirked slightly, getting more used to the friendly byplays that seemed common among these three. He was still reserved, of course, and fearful of his Master's wrath. But considering he had adopted his newest Lord, he didn't really expect to be receiving punishment very soon.

Cris just wrinkled his nose and ignored Tom's amused snort. "Joy."

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**#1: Cristiano is Italian for Christian, obviously, and I though it fit with Harry being the saviour and all. Ares is the Greek god of War, among many other things. The two sound decent together, I suppose. Also, I never was one for the name Tobias anywhere around Severus, which is also Italian, so his middle name is Acheron. Acheron is the Greek god of the Underworld River of Pain, whose stream guards the borders of Hades. That way, Harry's new name fits Severus' quite well. Do tell me what you think, though. For the record, from now on, Harry is going by Cristiano. If you want, take it as a sign that he's ready to begin anew, shedding the last remnant of his old life...**

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**A/N: The blood of the father, mixed with the son, will be the binding of the two. That's in essence what my ritual meant. I had Harry say the first half to symbolize his plea to be accepted. Severus answers the call and accepts him. Make sense? It's kind of morbid, though. In my literature class, we're learning all about symbolism. I can't watch a movie without picking out the symbols and themes, and it's driving me insane. So, well, this one was rather obvious when I read over what I had been typing.  
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**I think the incantation is what's pathetic. I wrote it in around five minutes. It sounds cooler in Latin though, so I didn't mess with it too much. Besides, it certainly does get across the point of being a binding incantation, which was the point. Still, it's a bit long and bothersome, just for a ritual. If you want to see the translation, dumb as it may be, go to my livejournal and tell me what you think.**

**Remember though, this is only half of Chapter Seven.**


	9. Chapter Seven Part Two: It Came

**Chapter Seven Part Two: It Came  
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**Disclaimer, Key, and Warnings are all in Chapter One.**

**A/N: Much thanks to: WynterRavenheart, Ravus7, Holen-Snape, disgruntledfairy, Rokkis, anaknisatanas, Harusume, tar heels superstar, and CattyRose for the reviews. Those keep me going, I swear. Special thanks to disgruntledfairy for the extra long review and kind words, but all of them were amazing. Now, on to the second half!**

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The next morning just so happened to be Cris' eleventh birthday. His two mentors had already taken him out on his annual shopping trip, however, due to the date of Severus' arrival. The older men decided to surprise him with a full day off and cake anyway, as a special treat.

When Cris happily skipped down the stairs to breakfast, dressed casually in a button-down and trousers, he was shocked to see Tom gesture at Zephyr to bring in the cake. It appeared with a hearty 'pop': vanilla and strawberry with fudge ripple icing, delicious. Grinning, he thanked Tom and Cas with a huge hug before he sat down in his usual seat next to Tom and dug in to the birthday meal that had become tradition.

Twenty minutes later, Severus walked in and paused hesitantly in the doorframe. Cris and Cas were having seconds of cake with bacon and eggs while Tom was buried behind the Daily Prophet, cup of coffee visible in front of him when he shuffled the papers that covered his face. It took him a moment to realize that it was his new son's birthday and he mentally slapped himself for not remembering to bring along the gift he had purchased last minute. He'd left it back in his chambers at Hogwarts; in his haste and worry over the meeting with his Lord, he'd forgotten it.

"Finally! Now that everyone's here, we can get to the gifts!"

Cris skillfully dodged Cas' hands and laughed as an exasperated Tom was dragged out of the room. Ignoring the urges to hurry up screamed over the vampire's shoulder, Cris took a seat beside Severus and gestured to the food-laden table.

"We can wait until you've eaten, of course. Cas would have thought of that if he'd calmed down for a second."

Severus began a hasty dismissal, not ready to make a vampire wait for him. "No, I couldn't hold up your big day! I should have came down earlier for --"

Cris cut him off. "Nonsense." He pulled the older man back down in his chair when he began to rise. "Yesterday was tiring."

Not knowing how to refuse, and not being able to resist the smell of bacon and kippers, Severus reluctantly nodded and began helping himself to a plate. Smiling in success, Cris just sat back and watched his new father eat. The silence became a little uncomfortable after a few minutes, so Cris tried to fill the empty air.

"Being a Vampire and all, Cas can't really celebrate birthdays. I would assume that's why he enjoys mine and Tom's so much. He's a lot calmer at Christmas." Severus didn't reply, other than a quick, polite, nod punctuated by his chews. "Um..." Not finding much to talk about, he let it go.

Severus finished his breakfast food and glanced longingly at the cake, undecided as to whether or not he should take a piece. His decision was made for him when Cris put a large piece on a clean plate and pushed it in front of him. He said his thanks and savored the sweet cake.

"Did you mind?"

Severus paused and looked over at Cris, head cocked in askance.

"Did you mind when Tom ordered you to adopt me?" He looked down at his hands, resisting the urge to twist them nervously. "I mean, I'm now your heir and you didn't really have a say in it."

Severus pushed back his nearly-empty plate and nodded slowly. "That's true; I didn't." How had he felt about that? He hadn't really thought very much about it, having many other things on his mind, but now he thought back. He hadn't hated the idea, knowing that he could use an heir, but he wasn't jumping for joy, figuratively speaking. At first, he had believed that because his Lord was pleased about it, is was probably a bad idea for him. Later, he just had wished he could of had a choice; he hated being forced into important decisions. Mostly, though, he was indifferent.

What really warmed him up to the idea was the boy's lineage: a Potter, but an Evans, too. He was the son of the mongrel he hated, but also his one confidante's only child. Even if the boy himself believes that child long dead, he was born to Lily and now the Potter genes were erased. In all essences, he was the boy's birth father. It was entirely possible to think of the boy as his now. His son.

He was quite happy with the adoption. Unless everything yesterday was just an act, which he sincerely hoped wasn't the case, the child was completely tolerable and even amusing. He could actually hold conversations with Cris and the boy actually had feelings, proving he wasn't just a mindless drone following in the footsteps of an evil Dark Lord.

He knew he still had a lot to learn, but he felt he could get along with Cris. The adoption was a good thing, even if the shock of his Lord's behavior was easily enough to kill him of a heart attack. But now how was he supposed to tell all this to Cris, who was still waiting for an answer?

Looking back over at the boy, he shrugged mildly. "I wasn't adverse to the idea, even at the beginning. Yes, I would have liked a choice, but I'm completely content and not willing to worry over it now." He was shocked at the ecstatic grin and obvious brightening of Cris in front of his very eyes. Why on Earth would such a simple fact make him so happy? Still, he smiled gently in return. Maybe he was losing his mind, being so nice like this, but he couldn't bring himself to be harsh.

Cris stood gracefully. "Come on, Father. Unless you're not finished?" He saw Severus' few bites of cake left and shrunk a bit, looking sheepish.

"I'm full, thank you." He stood also and gestured for Cris to lead the way, completely missing the return of the bright grin at his acceptance of the endearment.

It was to one of the more frequented sitting rooms in the Manor that Cris led him and it was there they found Cas and Tom. Tom had finished his paper and was now reading one in what Severus recognized as French. Cas was giving a rather one-sided documentary of something Severus didn't understand and organizing the large pile of gifts.

This living room was decorated in reds and blues. There was a fiery serpent mural making up one wall and two high windows with window-seats and silky, gauzy curtains in another. A white marble fireplace stood out on another wall, above which was the Slytherin Crest. The furniture was arranged facing the fireplace; two comfy leather couches, an armchair, and a few poufs. A glass table holding a small fountain was the centerpiece.

Judging by the various mugs and magazines stashed all around the room and the small pile of books stacked on one of the window-seats, the room was well lived in. It had an airy feeling, despite being where it was. Tom sat in the armchair, Cas on the floor by the couch with the gifts piled on it, and it was the latter man who noticed them first.

"What took so long, you two?" He agilely jumped up and shoved Severus down on the empty couch while pulling Cris back down with him, handing him a shiny package as he did so.

Cris took it in stride, used to the vampire's quirks by now. "Breakfast." Then, he neatly started tearing the wrapping off the items Cas forked over. Only on his birthdays and Christmas did Cris get spoiled like this. He enjoyed his days of freedom, but he went back to his rigorous schedule easily.

The gifts he received weren't at all surprising. There was a set of books on Rune Magic, a double dragonhide sheath for his favorite twin daggers, a new black winter cloak embroidered with the Slytherin Crest in silver on the back, and a very large book titled '_Politics For the Crafty_' from Tom. He smiled brightly as he opened each gift, slightly surprised at the political tome, and banished the plain paper when he finished. After quickly hugging and thanking Tom, who shocked Severus when he hugged back and lightly punched Cris on the shoulder, he began on the more brightly wrapped and decorated gifts.

Cas had decided to theme his gifts this year, apparently. Black leather gloves and skin softening cream, a book of '_Vampire Fashion_' that made Cris raise an eyebrow, and a set of hair-color potions.

"Trying to tell me something there?"

Laughing, Cas shook his head and handed over the last gift. "Not at all; you have wonderful style, but only for an eleven-year-old who's lived locked up with a couple of old men for years." He ignored Tom's dig in the ribs for being called old and continued. "Now open the last one, it's not from either of us."

"As if the vampire knows anything. I have style." Cris grumbled good-naturedly and reached for the last gift. Severus' eyes widened as he recognized the writing on the package. It couldn't be. He knew that he had left it back at Hogwarts with his school things. So how did his gift to Cris get here?

"Oh." After reading the signature on the package he smiled up at Severus. Quicker than thought, he had the brown paper off the gift and was staring at the book it had been hiding. "_Moste Potente Potions_!"

It was obvious that he loved the gift, surprisingly. Severus was a Potions Master who doubled as a Defense Against the Dark Arts expert and he really wasn't very knowledgeable in many other fields. So, because of a lack of any ideas of what to get the boy, Severus had bought him a Potions tome. A relatively rare and costly one, but a Potions tome all the same. It seemed he had made a good choice.

Forgetting himself, Cris flung his arms around the older man. "Thank you!" He quickly was forced to try to hide the fact that he was uncomfortable as he realized what exactly he was doing: hugging his father. His limbs were stiff, but he tried to relax before said man noticed.

Severus, to his credit, had successfully hidden his shock and awkwardly patted Cris' back. When the boy pulled away, he smiled at him.

Getting a tighter rein on his emotions that were threatening to pull him away, Cris thanked him again, calmer this time and smiled back. He felt as if he slowly drowning, afraid that every touch or action of his would drive Severus away. Even knowing that his fears were irrational and that Severus wouldn't be allowed to avoid him even if he tried did nothing to help. For the life of him, he couldn't look up to meet Severus' eyes. Both Tom and Cas felt the tension, too, especially having been around Cris so much. They glanced at each other hastily.

"I'm not proud to admit that you're better at Potions than I am, but don't blow yourself up." Tom rolled his eyes, and Severus was the only one who didn't notice that it was a desperate action. The man knew full well that Cris would be fine, but his comment lightened the mood somewhat.

Cris' eyes thanked him, even as the boy smirked and winked playfully. "Fine, Tom. I'm sure the elves wouldn't want to clean up my mess when I stir the wrong direction, right?"

Tom just shook his head, but Severus looked at him seriously. "Really, you should be extra careful with most of the potions in there. Some of them make even the best Masters get injured. I don't doubt your skills, but do research and be careful. You can always ask me about them, too."

It was Cas this time who saved Cris from his overwhelming emotions. "Time to see how your strategy has improved lately. Up!" Now that the excitement was pretty much over for this birthday, Cas was ready to get back on schedule. It was no hardship to get Cris out of the room. "Grab your katana, we haven't practiced that in a while, and don't forget your rapier."

Cris nodded, smiled slightly again at Severus, stood and followed Cas out of the room to leave only Tom and Severus. Tom stood as well, not allowing the other man the time to feel even more awkward before he was instructed to follow.

When they stopped this time, it seemed they were in Tom's study. There was an open binder of newspaper clippings about Death Eater sightings on the dark mahogany desk, but Tom closed it and placed it aside as they took seats. Severus took a moment to glance around as Tom replaced it with a Pensieve that was swirling with suppressed memory. It was an large room with only the required amount of furniture to make it a useable study in it, not cluttered at all and very organized. While there were no windows, the amount of open space in the room was such that the room felt free, not unlived in.

Severus' musings were halted by Tom's serious voice. "Do you know why I seem to be trusting you, Severus?"

The man in question gulped and stifled a grimace. He didn't like the sound of this. "No." Slowly, he shook his head to accompany the word.

Still ignoring the full basin on the desk in front of him, Tom continued. "You're under a highly complicated spell."

"Ah. A secrecy spell?"

"Something like that." Tom nodded. "But it's much more, too. I really couldn't explain."

Severus dipped his head in acceptance. He hadn't really expected an answer anyway, and to be honest, he hadn't really expected to be told about the spell. He was satisfied with the information he had, for now.

"That wasn't what I brought you here to discuss, however." The older man gestured to the Pensieve. "I want to show you these. They concern Cris, so it was his call when he decided who should be told. Come."

With only that as a warning, Tom gripped Severus' upper arm and touched the silvery surface of the basin. They were swept away.

_Albus Dumbledore looked up from penning a letter to the Ministry when one of the baubles on his desk chimed. This particular one allowed him to know who it was that gave the password to his Gargoyle guardian. Hovering above the insignificant-looking trinket was the name Minerva McGonagall._

_"Come in, Minerva." The old man called before the woman could knock. He loved to send people the idea that he knew everything. It was a helpful psychological trick._

_Said woman came barging through the door, shoving the oak door nearly off its hinges and into the wall. Fierce, flinty eyes stared down into the twinkling blue ones of the Headmaster of Hogwarts as he remained sitting at his desk with his Deputy glaring over him._

_"Albus! He's not on the list. Harry Potter's name isn't on here!" She brandished the list of incoming First Years as proof of her statement and allowed the still-seated man to take the thick parchment from her fingers that were clenched with worry. "You said he was still alive!"_

_Eyes half hidden behind half-moon glasses scanned the list and lost their twinkle. Sure enough, there was no Harry Potter listed under the 'H's' so he went no farther down. As he handed Minerva the list back, he sighed heavily. "So he is dead, then." It looked to the woman as if the weight of the world came crashing down on his shoulders at once. He slumped back in his chair, head gazing unseeingly down at his desk. The lone tear that escaped his eye and dripped down to rest in his long beard was enough to cause Minerva to gasp and forget about her misplaced anger. Pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at her own eyes, she backed out of the office and shut the door behind her to leave the Headmaster alone with his burdens. Or so it would seem._

_As soon as the door was shut, Locking and Silencing spells enacted around the office tower and the man's whole demeanor changed. It became obvious that he was livid. "That insolent brat! Running away like that and getting killed. That ignorant fool left me with the burdens he himself was supposed to bear. And the weight of his death besides." The old man growled and gritted his teeth alternately, looking altogether insanely evil._

_In a rare show of anger, Dumbledore grasped a useless figurine from a table near his desk and threw it across the room. It hit the wall, shattering into a million tiny fragments of glass. "He was the one who lost me my glory! He should have stayed with those idiot Muggles!" The man inhaled deeply and calmed himself enough to Reparo the fragments back into their original figure and float it back over to its spot. He turned back to the meticulous and boring task of writing a reply back to Minister Fudge, who he'd mostly lost the respect of, and hoped it would be enough to drive his rage away._

As he settled into work again, with merely a small frown on his face, the memory dissolved into nothingness. The office setting was replaced with the darkened sky and a quiet Muggle street proclaimed by a nearby road sign as 'Privet Drive'. Everything was in perfect order and that order bordered on obsession. Dumbledore seemed to be the star of this scene, too, and he came into view under one of the street lamps with a vague feeling of annoyance. Most everything else was covered by the darkness of night, brightened in areas by a few house lights, as well.

_Dumbledore knew he was unwelcome here, he just didn't care. These idiots could help bring him fame and recognition, even if his old plans were foiled. All that they had to do was take the child in and keep him reasonably healthy. Since they hated all things magical with an undying passion, as far as he could tell from his spying, it should be no problem to save the boy from his relatives when the time came to take him away to school. The fool would trust him and make it quite simple to poison him against all things Dark._

_If Voldemort rose again, he would have a weak child to kill before he was defeated by Dumbledore, the greatest wizard in the world since Merlin himself and the seat of the Light Magic of Britain. If Voldemort was dead, then said man of the Light would have a strong political chess piece. Either way, this boy would most likely be deprived of all but necessities and the end would turn out in his favor. Even if he overcame the obstacles, he would be relatively easy to manipulate, especially if you were Albus Dumbledore._

_When Hagrid's arrival was announced by the infernal noise of Sirius Black's flying contraption, he stopped allowing the world's praise to give him a big head and put on a slightly sad face. It was a small wonder that he had found out about Minerva's meddling and set her off his trail because she would be harder to fool._

_"Any trouble, Hagrid?"_

_"None, sir. Little tyke fell asleep as we were flying over Bristol." The half-Giant puffed up with pride over accomplishing his mission and gently handed baby Harry over to Dumbledore's waiting arms, but not before placing a very whiskery kiss on his small forehead. His beady eyes were wet, and Dumbledore had to suppress a grimace over Hagrid's emotional attachment._

_He pretended not to notice and studied the flying motorcycle Hagrid sat on. The larger man must have met Sirius at or near the ruined cottage in Godric's Hollow. Black would be distraught and probably go after Pettigrew before coming to take in his best friend's son. There was no way Dumbledore could let that happen, so he decided to tip off the Aurors beforehand. The boy would be staying with his Muggle relatives until he was eleven, and that was final._

_However, when Hagrid pulled out a tablecloth-sized handkerchief and blew his nose with the sound of a foghorn, he had to intervene. "There, there, Hagrid. It's not really goodbye. You'll see him again."_

_His answer was another loud snort and he rolled his eyes behind his half-moon glasses. Quickly, as he had no intentions of being found out, he placed the infant orphan on the doorsteps leading up to the Dursley home, letter ensuring the Dursleys would take him in tucked among his blankets._

_He felt like some words were in order, but with Hagrid here, he couldn't say them aloud. 'Bye bye, Harry Potter. In ten years I'll be back to save you from this madness. Survive.' All he said was, "Good luck."_

The silvery haired man was beginning to draw the reluctant Hagrid away as the memory faded once again. Severus and Tom were shoved forcefully back into Tom's office, both of them landing rather hard in their chairs.

Severus sat breathlessly for a few minutes as he watched Tom put away the Pensieve and take a seat again to stare at him. Then, he voiced the most forceful question that was vying for dominance in his reeling mind.

"How did you get the memories of Albus Dumbledore?"

Tom smirked, looking fully like his old self. "I actually have you to thank. You see, at the Death Eater meeting you let your guard down for a number of seconds. It was enough for Ixion to slip into your robes. He's skilled at slipping around undetected, so when you arrived back at Hogwarts, he had a look around."

A look of comprehension began to dawn on Severus' face. The snake had been there to see first and foremost if he tried to tell Dumbledore what he had learned. When it got the chance, however, it followed other orders. Somehow, that snake had retrieved these memories from Dumbledore's office.

"Yes, one of Ixion's tricks is to be able to access memories. His mother must be able to access them to judge them, but Ixion just received those traits by chance. When Ixion returned to me, I just took them from his mind and put them here." Tom motioned behind him, to the locked and warded cabinet where the Pensieve was resting. "Dumbledore will never know because his memories are still there and Ixion leaves no trace."

Now Severus understood why Ixion was one of his Lord's familiars. He was sure he had other abilities, as well, but even with this one, it was formidable. They sat in silence for a few more moments as Severus tried to sort out his mind a little more. Tom found it amusing that he could practically imagine the cogs turning in the other man's head.

"So, in other words, those memories showed that Dumbledore had no reason to place Cris with those Muggle relatives of his other than furthering his own gains?"

"Mostly."

"And the finer point of that was that Dumbledore only put him there to make Cris trust him when he came to take him away?"

"Yes."

Severus was silent for another moment. "How did he take it?"

Tom cocked his head, knowing exactly who and what the Potions Master was talking about. "He was incredibly pissed, to tell the truth, but he wasn't really surprised."

As the silence this time lasted well over a minute, Tom busied himself with writing a note to Lucius about certain political moves that the blonde should, and would, make. In all reality, Tom hadn't been anywhere near this calm when he had first seen the memories. He had wanted to kill the old man in his sleep, but that wouldn't suit his other plans, and it was Cris' call for revenge, anyway. Still, quite a few of his office supplies had found themselves obliterated.

Cris, on the other hand, knew that his hate for the old goat was getting more concentrated with each new revealed betrayal. He had had his own spree of destroying things, with good reason. As Tom had told Severus, though, he wasn't really surprised. With what they knew of Dumbles, it suited his personality. They had great plans for his downfall.

The silence was broken by Cris slamming the door back against the wall in his haste to get in. Tom was used to it and merely looked up inquisitively, but Severus nearly jumped out of his seat.

Cris had two words to say. "It came." A rather ruffled Leto was perched on his shoulder, and she was trying to delicately preen her feathers back into place. In his hands was the telltale thick wad of parchment: A Hogwarts acceptance letter.

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**A/N: In my version of the Pensieve, when you look at a person's memories, it's as if you are in their head. That means you feel all the thoughts and emotions that they feel. So, Dumble's memories show his thoughts, emotions, and intentions.**

**Happy Christmas, all!  
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	10. Chapter Eight: The Death Eater Children

**Chapter Eight: The Death Eater Children**

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**Disclaimer, Keys, and Warnings are all in Chapter One.  
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**A/N: Thanks to animehplife, Knight25, Lurking Silence, EterNite, tonks*is*cool, The Dark is Gaining, ams71080, disgruntledfairy, Tommy14, and kitsunekiri for reviewing. Let me remind you that this is a WIP. All I have are notes on how I plan for this story to turn out, and details in my mind that change as I type them. I debated for a while over several of the events in this part of the story, but in the end, this is what I went with. If something doesn't work out later on, I may have to change it. There are reasons for all of what I did, but if the goals the story works towards and the ones I'm working toward aren't the same, then I'll have to fix it. Trust me, I'll warn you if I do change something. Hopefully that won't happen.**

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Tom encouraged Cris to use the Slytherin emblem and crest often as decoration because, as a speaker of Parseltongue, it was his birthright. He may have not found where exactly his family descended from Salazar Slytherin himself, but to have his own imfamous trait, the interaction must have occurred.

So at 10:45 on Platform 9 3/4, Cris stepped through the magical barrier dressed princely in black Italian trousers and a peacock blue silk shirt with a collar trimmed in gold to accent the black, with a white summer cloak streaming along behind him. It was the cloak that attracted the most attention. The Slytherin Crest adorned the left side, growing in ebony thread from the small of his back to cover his shoulder and left sleeve. However, it was unrecognizable for what it was, swirling around, curving in on itself, lines broken and formed like vines, snakes wrapping and devouring the crest as a whole. The small, glittering diamonds sewn every centimeter along each twirling line were hard to miss, though. With his hair tied back in a ponytail that curved slightly to the right, Cris carried Leto's cage in soft-leather-clad hands, the Bengal Eagle owl's horns giving her a regally stern look that complemented the way Cris held himself.

His Vampire escort followed, dressed completely in black except for the startling crimson amulet around his neck that had his own family crest in it and the crimson-hilted sword at his side. Castor had been chosen to come with him partly because of the practicality of it. He had announced at breakfast the day before that he had been assigned a mission and had to leave for a while, so it was no hassle for him to drop off Cris on his way. Tom wouldn't have minded to get out of the Manor for a while, but of course there was a reason as to why his excursions had been limited in the first place. And they needed the element of surprise for when Dumbledore found out about Severus' son. So the option was clear. Cris had worn his best to impress and Cas had dressed like some sort of an assassin for his own amusement.

On the platform, the duo silenced the crowd. People stopped and stared, not even bothering to whisper and gossip with their neighbours. They cleared a path to the train and wondered about who the royalty was. Neither of the pair let on that they knew they were being put on display, merely keeping their faces emotionless as they headed to the area reserved for boarding the train. If they had looked from their path even once, they would have seen the many heavy glances that were passed around the outskirts of the throng, all from the finest dressed of the lot, and then the slight nods to the children they stood beside.

Gracefully stepping up the three feet or so into the scarlet boxcar, Cris turned to face his escort for a moment. The man nodded once in farewell before murmuring slightly in French.

"See you at Hogwarts."

Cris raised an eyebrow as confusion took the foremost spot in his turbulent emotions for a moment before the plans fell in place. Smirking in acknowledgment, he turned and headed out of sight towards the seating compartments of the train. Cas watched for a moment before simply disappearing in thin air.

The magical platform at Kings Cross erupted. The fringes of the crowd saw their children off quickly and escaped, knowing that only the Heir of the Dark Lord would be seen off by a Vampire and that their progenies knew what to do, but most of the platform seemed likely to stay and chat for hours.

Cris heard the sudden wall of sound and grimaced. Those people were idiots. Cas was most obviously a Vampire, and judging from his earlier words, he had succeeding in getting himself a job at Hogwarts. The main purpose was to announce who he was to the right people, but Cas' presence on the platform also held some other purposes. For one, his accompaniment of Cris to the station could easily be explained by him being Severus' friend, which would give Castor some leeway with the Headmaster because he could pretend to be a Dark individual searching for the Light, or some such rubbish. With Dumbles support, that the fool would surely give just to get a Vampire on his side, Cas could keep his job and continue to protect and teach Cris and keep an eye on Dumbles. Later, as both Severus and Castor pretended to be spys on the Dark, Dumbledore would be less suspicious of either of them. Just as he planned to do, they could hide right under the old man's nose.

He let his analyzing of their plans go as his stomach churned with a full flock of butterflies. Cris was searching for an empty compartment and was already halfway up the train without finding one. Passing up two more, he saw a group of older students and then no one. He quickly slid open the door and entered, grateful for the silence after the door closed again. He set Leto's cage down on a seat and started to relax, just as a whistle shrieked.

Cursing, he jumped at the strange noise. Why would a magical train be so Muggle-like; belching smoke and steam and making weird noises? Plus, and he would never admit it to anyone, it was daunting. Cris was used to quiet, peaceful places and this sudden transition into loud sounds and crowds of people made him feel claustrophobic. Sure, he went traveling and shopping with his mentors, but they steered clear of the most crowded places and disguised themselves so they wouldn't attract attentition. Here, he couldn't escape back home at the end of the day and he couldn't pretend to be anyone else. What if he couldn't adjust? It was enough to make him nauseous. And yet at the same time, he was happy to get to study Magic in a formal setting.

Shaking his head like he could get rid of the feelings he disliked, Cris tried to distract himself by unshrinkng the book he had shoved in his pocket: his new favorite, _Moste Potente Potions_. He hadn't attempted any of the mentioned concoctions, but the theory was fascinating. His father's gift turned his thoughts in that direction. Things were still somewhat awkward when they were alone, but he was hopeful for the future and both of them seemed to be coming out of their shells. It had been a full month since they had met and Severus hadn't been ill towards him once. Cris was getting over his irrational fears and enjoying his time with the man.

When the train finally lurched to a start, it jarred onto the tracks and let out a final siren call before chugging into a rhythm, startling Cris and causing him to fall off his seat. This time, he cursed creatively and in several different languages. He didn't notice the door open as the picked himself up and tried to find his place again.

"Can I sit here?" Sheepishly looking back over his shoulder, the vividly red-haired boy blushed and shrugged. "I can't find nowhere else."

Cris didn't look up until he found his place in the book and marked it carefully. With one look, he knew he was never going to be associated with this boy. He had on a well-worn jumper and denims that looked too short on his lanky frame. He also seemed unlike the type to get along with the Slytherins, who had enough class to not use incorrect grammar, and judging by the dirt smudge on his nose and an intimidated look downwards at Cris' scrutiny, he didn't put a lot of thought into his appearance and neither was he charismatic. In other words, unless he had intelligence he didn't show, he was useless. Until he actually proved to be, Cris chose to be civil.

"I'm waiting for my friends. Sorry, but you should sit somewhere else." He quickly dismissed the boy and returned to his book.

Not half a moment after the boy left, the door slid open again. This time, Cris didn't even bat an eyelash towards the intruder.

A practiced cool tone was directed to him after a few seconds of being ignored. "Do you know the boy that was just here?"

Cris decided that he might as well just give up on his reading. He looked up with a bored expression and replied, "No. Do you?" Studying the features of the blonde boy in front of him, he recognized the profile. It would be his son that got to him first.

"Of course." The carbon copy of Lucius Malfoy sniffed. "That was only the youngest son of the biggest family of Blood Traitors in Britain."

Looking to either side of the speaker, Cris saw that he was framed by two beefy louts that could only be classified as minions. He couldn't help but turn a corner of his mouth up in amusement. "That would explain the hair; he's a Weasley."

Mini-Lucius smirked and inclined his head. There was a pause before he spoke again. "Might I ask who you are? I'm Draco Malfoy."

"I know. You look like your father." Draco didn't seem surprised, so that clued Cris in that he was the Dark side's most likely suspect of being Tom's heir. "Did he tell you about me?"

Draco seemed to get the ploy. His father had taught him speaking techniques and he knew better than to give away anything he knew until this boy's identity was revealed for sure. It could be a plot to get information, especially since the spy in the Death Eater ranks had never been caught. "I wouldn't know. Father mentions a lot of people."

Nodding approvingly, Cris smiled. "Suspicion is a good thing, but I'm only going to prove myself once. Would you gather those who are of interest?"

Draco cocked his head slightly. "Is there anywhere specific you want them to meet?"

"Here."

The blonde raised both eyebrows, glanced around the small train compartment, seemed to hold in a shrug, and disappeared back out the door, taking his minions with him. Cris dug into his pocket quickly. Finding the magical expander that Tom used to expand inn rooms when they traveled inconspicuously, he dropped the shiny marble to the floor, where it made the walls and seats shimmer before they slid and stretched to provide enough seating for at least thirty people comfortably. Draco may have expected him not to have the power for magical expansion, which he did, but he could cheat and achieve the same end much easier. He also dug out his wand to ensure that this meeting would be held in utter secrecy.

Less than half an hour had passed before a polite knock sounded on the door. He waited and the door slid open to Draco again. This time, he had students of all ages with him. They filed in and took seats, the younger ones with slight trepidation and eying the larger room, the older ones with arrogance and better-than-thou attitudes. Cris had a hard time not rolling his eyes. As the door slid shut once again, he decided to get the show on the road.

Reaching to his neck, he loosened the cloak and allowed it to fall to the ground as he stood. Only to disappear and reappear in his shrunken trunk, not that his audience knew where it went. Wandless and wordless spells were taxing, but it gave him the slight edge he needed to really impress them later. He raised his left arm in a fashion that he imagined their parents had imitated numerous times and unbuttoned his cuff enough so that he could bare his inside forearm.

There, in the same black as the Dark Mark that adorned their parent's arms, was what seemed to be a tattoo of a fang-bearing snake. When Cris gently ran a finger along it, it began to move. It bubbled and writhed underneath his skin before chewing and ripping its way free of his arm. Cris showed no sign of pain, even as blood dripped down and stained the carpet and the younger students gasped. A good six feet of scaly skin grew out of pale flesh and wrapped around Cris' torso, partially dropping to the ground. Finally the tail wriggled free, allowing the skin to knit back together, tattoo-free this time.

_Ixion, these are the ones to bind. _Cris' gaze didn't stray from the snake, but he could imagine the faces of those around him. This would seal his proof. Tom hadn't told his followers of the gift his equal possessed, but everyone knew the Dark Lord could talk to snakes, and his Death Eaters knew that both of their lords spoke Parseltongue. Smirking, he lifted his head to sweep a gaze at those staring at him. "Tell me your names."

Ixion replied in a hiss without translation, scenting the idividuals and imprinting their cores to memory. Easily, he bound them to secrecy as they called their name.

"Rakhova."

"Wolf."

"Flint."

"Bulstrode."

"Parkinson."

"Crabbe."

"Goyle."

"Zabini."

"Nott."

"Greengrass."

"Malfoy."

"Warrington."

"Baddock."

"Briggs."

"Kell."

"Mallis."

"Peakes."

"Vaisey."

"Firestone."

"Jacobs."

"Conlaine."

With the final name, Ixion let loose the magic, melding it to Cris and making his eyes glow crimson.

"My Lord." Draco dropped to his knees and bowed his head. One by one, all but the oldest followed his lead, and even the most arrogant allowed their heads to fall to their chests.

"Don't call me that," Cris sharply ordered, causing several flinches as the red eyes that had yet to fade back to emerald glared at those kneeling. "I am your lord, sure, but this mission requires that Dumbledore neither knows anything of me nor of the fact that I'm not a normal student. Any slip-ups by calling me by any title would give that old fart a clue. Failure is not acceptable." Quickly, all those kneeling rose and settled into their seats once more, knowing the penalty for failure within the Dark side: death.

When his eyes blurred back to the startling emerald they were before, it seemed to settle the others slightly. That and the fact that he wasn't glaring at them anymore.

"For all intents and purposes, I am merely an acquaintance you grew up around. Act as such. And to ensure you do not blow my cover within minutes, I'm going to let you in on a secret." Looking around, Cris makes sure that everyone is paying strict attention. They are, hanging on to his every word. Good. "My full name is Cristiano Ares Snape." Without giving them time to fully process what he threw out, he continued. "Come to terms with that and do not act surprised when Dumbles scrutinizes your expressions. Unless you have a parent in the Inner Circle, dismissed."

Most of the students hurried from the compartment, faces showing varying signs of confusion, trepidation, and resignation. Those that stayed were too caught up in thought to notice Cris accio the expansion marble back to his pocket. They did notice, however, when the compartment shifted back to its original state to only seat the ten people remaining. Conjuring himself a comfy chair, he seated himself so that he was facing his new elite. He was surprised to notice that almost all of them appeared to be his age.

Silence ensued until someone had the nerve to break it. Speaking softly, Draco spoke up. "You do look a lot like my godfather, but I didn't know he had a son." His pale face flushed slightly at the weight of everyone's stares, but he held Cris' gaze.

Cris smirked. "He didn't have a son before..." He trailed off, implying. Dawning appeared in most of the eyes.

"So he really wasn't the spy?"

Glancing at the girl, Pansy Parkinson, Cris shook his head. He wasn't going to spill his father's past. "But I assure you that your parents weren't slighted in honor. He was chosen because he works best for our plans. Now, are any of you not a First Year?" One boy, Conlaine, raised his hand. Noticing in disgust that the two minions that were with Draco earlier, that he now knew as Crabbe and Goyle, were practically dozing in their seats, he decided to send them away, too. Their fathers were merely used as bodyguards and it seemed that the sons were following in their footsteps.

"Then, Conlaine, I ask that you continue as normal. And you two as well." With a quick affirmative, there are only six other Death Eater children sitting in front of Cris. He leans back and tries to get comfortable. "Well, you're my new friends."

To make their story convincing, Cris and Severus had to have as much evidence as possible. Having friends that he had grown up around and could collaborate his story would appease the Headmaster, who was said to believe that children could grow up different from their parents. These six eleven-year-olds are now going to be his closest friends, and even if they may think that he accepted them only to further the ultimate goal, like they think for his reasons for accepting his father, that wasn't the truth. He wanted friends, he really did, and he knew that a ruler could never be friends with the people below them. It was he who made the decision to try to make friends and be a leader, not a ruler. He hoped that in time, they could accept him, and he hoped in turn that he could learn to accept and understand them.

Merlin knew that he had to grow more comfortable in his surroundings if he planned on staying at Hogwarts, and with true friends there for him, it could be much easier. This is the most that he had interacted with people in his life, and it was starting to wear on his nerves, breaking him down mentally and emotionally. And they had yet to reach the castle. Trying to ignore his growing headache, he turned back to those that he's supposed to be friends with and begins explanations.

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**A/N: You know, I think I'm going to just give up on appologizing every time it takes me decades to update. I give you a blanket appology right now. Forgive me for writers block, my life, and my extreme laziness. I do promise that it will get out at some point. Reviews, corrections, etc. are appreciated.**

**Next Chapter: Sorting.  
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